


The Gala

by Darkprism



Series: Monoshizukanohi [29]
Category: Bleach, InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, Loveless, Naruto, Togainu no Chi, Trinity Blood
Genre: Anal, BDSM, D/s Relationships, Fandom crossover, Impact Play, Language, M/M, Nudity, Oral, References to Abuse, Side Story, Voyeurism, gothic motif
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 16:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkprism/pseuds/Darkprism
Summary: Upon their return from a cruise of the world, Haku suggests that Itachi and company throw a party...





	1. Chapter 1

In the West wing of the Uchiha family home, hand-tooled leather dress boots struck stone floors with hard hits of black heels. Cloudless, frozen night was outlined in the peaked windows of hallways and abandoned gathering rooms, dust collecting on priceless antiques covered by heavy sheets. Paintings of still lifes, religious ecstasy, and archaic torture lined the high walls. Tile transformed to wood and to carpets that were by turn plush and threadbare, and a tall, regal shadow drifted with aimless authority through patches of moonlight and swirling dusk. 

Lord Uchiha Itachi roamed the halls of his manor, the hour of the gathering growing nigh. He checked his watch beneath his sleeve, his tuxedo traditional in color but unique in style. The jacket was without lapels but with mandarin collar. The crisp vest came high on his chest and was covered in ornate dark stitching, and his shiny black tie all but obscured the delicate folds of the coal dress shirt he wore beneath the vest and coat. It was old, the tux, and familiar, made for him along with a score of other suits by a tailor now deceased. He adjusted unassuming white gold cufflinks, smoothed a hand over his low, lengthy ponytail, the clasp a sturdy ring to match the links, and he walked, pacing for serenity and calm. 

Safe in the silence and far away from the frenetic flurry of servants, Itachi gathered the kind of willpower most people needed to fight a one-man war. But it was not battlefields of blood and agony that Itachi would face tonight, however, but something that was, in his estimation, far worse:

A dinner party. A  _ formal _ dinner party thrown for a group of individuals whom Itachi had not laid eyes upon for, in some cases, years. He deliberately increased his stride, and he all but flew through a room that stored hundreds of vases that truly needed to be cleaned. He made a mental note to tell Merek, his head of household staff and driver, and paused to pick up a piece wrought during the Great Depression.

Tonight had not been Itachi's idea, but rather his adorably troublesome boy, Haku's. After the three of them had returned from their stint in Itachi's condo aboard the cruise ship, The World, Haku had suggested over hot chocolate served late one night by the fire in the family room that they host a welcome home party.

"With the Fetish Ball postponed until Break's Masters work out schedules, there will be few chances for formal affairs. And we've not seen our friends in some months, My Lord," Haku had said in his seemingly timid voice that was both genuinely soft and artificially demure. 

"Though we're grateful for all that you showed us, Master," Kimimaro, Itachi's sweet and servile boy, interjected with a cat-green-eyed disapproving glance at his brother in submission.

"Of course, My Lord," Haku replied smoothly with a seated bow. "My life has never been so rich and full of wonder and opportunity as it is with you." A dusky, wide gaze had met Itachi's, a mischievous gleam hidden in the shining depths. "But, My Lord, wouldn't it be  _ fun _ ?"

Itachi reiterated his sigh of defeat and set down the glass sculpture. It'd been beyond his power to resist after that, especially when Kimimaro politely said Kimi had missed their poker circle. Itachi had allowed his boys to gang up on him, bemused as they argued for the next week over the guest list. 

"My Lord, you must tell us whom you'd like to see," Haku had wheedled, small fingers clasping Itachi's wrist.

"Master, he doesn't mean to be demanding," Kimimaro started.

"Not entirely," Haku muttered, and Itachi laughed.

Kimimaro sighed. "We just want you to have all the say you wish in the planning."

"My brother, his husband, and the handful of names I've given you are all I require, sweet and lovely boys," Itachi answered, kissing Kimimaro and Haku, respectively. "I leave the rest in your capable hands."

Strategic meetings over lists, invitation layouts, decorations, and themes had continued for some time, and Itachi had suffered it in silence for the sake of the delight such things reaped for his boys, who were his breath and his blood. The happiness that existed in the wake of their combined fixation allowed Itachi peace while he recovered from long months abroad, caught up on household issues, and reviewed the distant matters involving his family's business. It was exhausting, and Itachi was too tired to do much more than fall into the bed he shared with his treasures each night, though he teased them both to breaking every morning as per their ritual. Seeing Kimi and Haku in states of unsatisfied arousal fed Itachi's very soul, and with lips, tongue, cock, toys, and hands, he took his boys to edges from which they were not allowed to fall until Itachi so deemed it.

One night after several days of grueling conference calls and an irritating chat with Sasuke, Itachi had walked into their rooms to find Kimi and Haku naked and kneeling. Both men were ringed, cuffed, collared, and plugged, matching pretty pink flushes on their cheeks and ends of their engorged dicks.

"Master, we have been remiss," Kimimaro had said, his eyes on the carpet.

"Nay, My Lord, inconceivably inattentive to your needs," Haku had added, and the honesty in his devious boy's voice had stopped Itachi in his tracks and softened the anger he had carried with him to the bedroom.

"How so, my loves?"

"You are showing us a great kindness by allowing us this party," Kimi answered. "Though we know large groups tire you, Master."

"And My Lord is already weakened by the time spent showing us places and things we could not have dreamed of seeing, especially not in the safety and freedom of your loving and immaculate affections," Haku said.

"You've been speaking with Merek, I see," Itachi said, but he walked to his boys, cupped both their cheeks and pressed them to his thighs.

"Your footman only spoke what we begged him to tell, My Lord," Haku whispered, clinging to Itachi.

"We're the ones in the wrong, Master," Kimimaro said, arms around Itachi's waist. "Please see no slight but those found in us."

Itachi hummed, stroked stubble-free jawlines and thick hair. "There is no fault in proceeding with plans I've condoned, boys."

"True, Master," Kimimaro said.

"And we'd never be so base as to question your authority by unmaking your generous gift," Haku added, and Itachi smiled at the tops of their heads.

"Mmhm," Itachi agreed, petting Haku's nape with massaging fingers.

"But we wish to give you something in which you can find joy, Master. Something to look forward to?" 

"Sweet boy," Itachi said to Kimimaro, and he knelt between the pair of them, forcing two chins level. "Do tell me what you're thinking."

"We'd like to serve you in the duration of the gathering," Kimi said, forgetting himself and dropping Itachi's title. Itachi kissed him for it, suckled the pierced lower lip until Haku squirmed.

"We'd like to play," Haku said, a plea wrapped in the words, and Itachi answered it with a deep, consuming dance of their tongues. 

Energy and interest revived, Itachi grasped two cocks that had not seen release in days. His boys could kiss and tease one another to their hearts' content, but orgasm would always be met with their Master. The thrum of power that beat in Itachi's core when both his strong, talented, beautiful men had shuddered, moaned, and rested against him with hands behind their backs, had annihilated all traces of anxiety for the gala or minor irksome occurrences that existed beyond the atmosphere they created among them. He continued until their breathing pitched with familiar desperation, and then he'd released them to twist fists in white blond and sooty brunet tresses. "Then explain the flow of the evening, enlighten me as to what you wish to give, and I will claim my stake on all I desire to take."

Thus the entertainment was outlined, and Itachi had spent many a sadistic hour preparing. With the large game on the horizon, smaller trysts resumed, and Itachi managed responsibility to self and property with renewed vigor. He covered his boys in marks, welts, and bruises, ordered ejaculation by alternating men every hour on the hour, and he thanked Merek when the servant mentioned it was good to hear cursing and command fill the household once again. Itachi made suggestions on attire, approved the final invitations -- matte maroon with silver script crowned by the Uchiha crest and sealed with wax stamped with all their initials entwined -- and banned the boys from entering the main seating room attached to the master suite. The bedroom, bathroom, closets, and den were allowed, but the boys had to make use of the hidden door off their 'Mistress Quarters' when they wished to leave the rooms. Entrance and exit via the carved curved doorways depicting sun, moon, tree of knowledge, and the hell of the fallen was not permitted until a certain time on a specific night and without precise understanding of what would lie in wait.

Itachi did glory in mysteries, and he reveled in the salivating eagerness they elicited in Kimi and Haku. Not knowing what was to happen had them whispering, daydreaming, and trying to pry information from their Master. Itachi didn't divulge, choosing instead to praise the speculation or to chastise it by silencing them with his cock when the guesswork became too elaborate.

Now the night was upon them, and Itachi had dressed early, leaving Kimimaro and Haku in their rooms to ready themselves. The evening would begin with their procession into the great library, where the guests would be ushered upon arrival. Appetizers and drinks would be served, small talk would happen, and then dinner would be announced and attended. Afterward, there would be a concert of sorts, and though the gala would conclude after the performance, it would herald the beginning of the main act Itachi had planned for his lovers.

It did, indeed, pay to have goals in mind.

Making his way through a series of rooms attached to a bedroom long fallen into disuse, Itachi set his course for the main hallway that ran past the master chambers and to the twin staircases leading to the lower level of the manor. As he approached the East wing, music filtered through a newly installed house-wide sound system and met his ears:  _ Danse Macabre _ . Itachi chuckled to himself, enjoying Haku's sense of humor and taste, and the good fortune he felt to the very center of his being for having his boys in his life quickened his step as he rounded the final corner.

Standing at the top of the stairs and deep in conversation were Kimimaro and Haku. Kimi laughed at something Haku said, and Itachi crept upon the pair, hoping to watch without notice for a few steps more. Itachi had never expected to find love in a thousand lifetimes. He thought his destiny was to mildew in the dark, damp places of the universe in penance for a favor he paid to a man he did not love, but who was worshipped by his younger brother. Itachi had lost himself, his connection to this world, its inhabitants, even the will of his own instincts, and buried himself beneath a hellhound's dervish of pain. 

It took a relative stranger, a man known only to Itachi by proclivity and perversion displayed on the floors of the BDSM club Haze; a man slight of form but enormous in nightmare experience, to awaken Itachi from his own delusions. In a single chance night, Itachi remembered the sound of his heartbeat, heard his mind's cries for ceasefire, and he learned he was good at managing the malevolent needs of others. Experience with his own bleak nature taught him to see it, to know it, to be unafraid, and to tame it.

And in a crazier turn of events, it had been Inuzuka Kiba, the young man destined to be soulmates with the person who had saved Itachi from the brink, who had led Itachi to Break and thus to Kimimaro. Itachi had no idea Kimi had found refuge in the Hyuuga's pet kink club, but upon learning that fact, it'd been easy to broker a deal with Kiba to catch the attention of a sociopathic redhead and to watch Kimimaro perform.

Kimimaro was tied to Haku by bonds Itachi would never seek to sunder, and Itachi gave thanks every day to whatever might be listening that both men had chosen him with as much passion as Itachi had fallen for them.

When Itachi drew closer, Haku and Kimi stopped talking and grinned before bowing low from the waist. They kept their gazes downward and stood for Itachi's appraisal. Kimimaro's tux was a green so deep it appeared black to the indiscriminate eye, the lapels of the double-breasted jacket shimmering just enough to be alluring. He wore a white shirt secured with small emerald button covers, and at his throat, instead of a bowtie, he wore a fitted, brushed metal collar. A rose cut from the same green stone as the covers stood in the center, and the tones set off his eyes and made his loose, shoulder-length blond hair, currently without additional color, positively glow.

Haku's tastes ran toward the feminine and the extravagant, and Itachi was only too happy to feed such tendencies. The slight, slender man was encased in snug, shining fabric of a maroon deep enough to be almost brown. The jacket closed with a single onyx button at solar plexus, and beneath it he wore black silk with subtle ruffles. The slacks clung to his long, shapely legs, and he wore ankle boots with rhinestone-chain closures that added inches to his height. He didn't wear a tie, either, and the collar encircling the base of his throat was studded in diamonds. His hair was pulled partially up and decorated with ropes of more sparkling, clear gems, and gentle curls rolled down his back in perfumed waves.

"Ah, my boys," Itachi said when he could find his tongue. "You are divine gifts that make it difficult to wait for the unwrapping." The grins that met the compliment reminded Itachi that it was an honor to be alive. He extended both his arms to his boys with a respectful inclination of his chin. "May I have the privilege?" 

"To such a kindness and for such a chance to please, we could never say no, My Lord," Haku said, cheerfully linking his arm through Itachi's.

"Always, Master," Kimimaro murmured, flush on his cheeks. At the last second, Itachi took Kimimaro's hand instead of having him link arms, and the pink turned into a ruby.

Stately, they stepped down the winding staircase into the reception hall. Most of Itachi's torture device collection was currently on display, as apparently Haku thought it important to show off the breadth of Itachi's idle fascination. Two men in black breeches, coats with tails, and smart bow ties flanked the front entrance, and more stood about with trays. The music escalated into  _ Oh Fortuna _ , and the smell from the catering that filled the kitchens reached Itachi's nose. With his men close at hand, it was easier to relax, and for the first time since the inception of this insane little idea, a flicker of pleasant anticipation ignited in Itachi's breast.

"Remember," Itachi said, pausing to enjoy that the servers never made eye contact and managed to deliver quick, clean bows that could only be accomplished through devotion to the art. "Eat and drink and speak as you like to whomever you choose. I only require your enjoyment of the festivities until I give the signal at dinner."

"Yes, My Lord," Haku and Kimimaro said in unison, but they gave one another a significant look that Itachi didn't miss. He chuckled, shaking his head, but the obvious question was stifled by a breathy cry of his title.

"Yes?" Itachi said, turning to Merek. His consummate, properly wicked Englishman who was plain of face and coloring but never dull of wit, all but trotted to the trio. He wore the servant garb to match the rest of the household, but Merek's jacket was a sooty gray instead of regular black.

"My Lord, you requested this, I believe?" Merek said, offering a black silken top hat and a cane crowned with a solid silver serpent head, diamond eyes gleaming with a recent polishing. 

"Thank you," Itachi said simply, putting the hat on and taking the cane, tucking it under his arm without releasing either of his treasures.

"Not at all, My Lord," Merek replied.

"I expect the library is prepared for our guests' arrival?"

"Indubitably, My Lord. Food and drink and jovial greetings await you. And you must excuse me. The head of ceremonies sent this eve is rather green about the gills still sucking wind behind his ears. I must go make do." Merek dipped low from the waist, one arm across his chest, and Haku giggled, prettily, as always.

Merek cast a sly look at Haku. "And your Lordships look stunning, if I may be so bold to say."

"You may  _ always _ say, good sir," Haku said, extending a hand, which Merek took, kissed, and returned.

"Good luck," Kimimaro wished, and Merek smiled before pivoting and scurrying away to deal with the employees.

"Such a sweet man. I wonder if he needs assistance?" Haku teasingly commented as they resumed their procession to the library.

"Master would be splendid at offering pointers to keep difficult people in line, no doubt," Kimimaro deadpanned.

"But not nearly as good as our sweet Haku would be, wielding a crop and driving the steeds into a pen," Itachi rejoined.

"A run with the bulls," Haku mused, his smile brighter than stars. "How appealing."

"Mm," Itachi hummed. "This must be where the requisite pun about 'giving them the horns' comes into play."

"There are three of us to offer in the gouging, Master," Kimimaro pointed out, helpfully.

Haku burst into a gale of giggles, and the mirth preceded their entrance into the main library. The walls were lined with tall stacks of shelves, and a second tier wrapped high around the lofted room, accessible by twin metal spiral staircases. Longer than it was wide, the library had two stone fireplaces, the gas logs alight and casting warmth. Servants in frocks stood among the stately furniture that was covered in dark leather and golden rivets. Flameless candles glowed in lieu of electric lighting. Low tables, strategic Tiffany lamps, and heavy fur rugs made the space comforting instead of imposing. At the far end of the room, a two-story stained-glass window rose from the floor in a rainbow of color. The image was another from the Garden, the fall of mankind and the rise of knowledge, and it matched the one carved on the doors leading into Itachi's bedchambers. 

A bar occupied the left wall, a new addition for the party and the guests, and it was staffed with a slight, thin man with brown hair and dimples that flashed with the hesitant smile. "Oh my," Haku murmured, squeezing Itachi's arm. "Forgive me, My Lord, but I feel the need to quench my thirst."

"Try not to eat the boy alive," Kimimaro murmured, disapproval tinting the tone.

"Now, now," Itachi chastised, gently and in jest. "I'd not discourage Haku from giving the child an entertaining evening."

Haku spun with grace, and bent to bow over Itachi's hand, kissing a silver ring on Itachi's finger, the penitent to the divine. Haku's grin and toss of hair were as evil as they were alluring, and Itachi watched in humble fascination as his beautiful boy approached the manservant at the open bar. Itachi dearly loved Haku enjoying a good time wiled away in the mild torture of the unsuspecting.

"Itachi," Kimimaro whispered, leaning closer and smelling of the aftershave that reminded Itachi of Rome. They'd found the scent in a tiny shop in a cobblestone alcove, and had bargained with a keeper who knew not a word of the English, French, Japanese, or Russian that were in Itachi and his beloveds' experience.

"Yes, sweet boy?" Itachi asked his more conservative lover, setting aside his cane to lean against a shelf and tucking a stand of hair behind Kimi's ear.

"Might I ask to stay by your side until dinner?" Kimimaro's glance into Itachi's eyes was a quick dart, calculated but not in ill intent, only consideration. "Haku will do the rounds, I'm sure, and I'd rather... be close to Master, if I can impose?"

Itachi cupped Kimimaro's face with both hands, and the slight gasp left Itachi no choice but to loom over Kimi's lips. "Do you ask for yourself and your needs or to please me, my love?"

"Both," Kimimaro answered, hesitation annihilated by Itachi's nearness. Gentle green stared at Itachi with longing and anxiety. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"Then it will be as you desire," Itachi said, tasting Kimimaro but keeping it brief. He knew the long night ahead of his lover, had no intention of making it more challenging than it would be without early aid, but gods above and below, Kimimaro's affections would keep Itachi warm through the bleakest of winters. 

"Thank you, Master," Kimimaro said with a sigh and slight smile. Itachi tucked Kimimaro's arm through the loop made by his own, and a hired steward stepped into the room with a sharp rap of heel and fierce straightening of spinal column.

"Neji Hyuuga and Shikamaru Nara." The steward took a quarter turn, rammed a forearm across his midsection, and bowed with a sweep of hand. Itachi hummed in approval, making note to thank Merek appropriately for finding such a delightful serving staff, and he chuckled when Kimimaro went stiff at his side. 

Neji was always a delight for the senses. He chose clothing as an extension of self and, Itachi suspected, an unconscious display of his greatest weaknesses -- that which pleased by touch alone. Neji's tuxedo was pitch black with a dull sheen to the nap. The jacket was double-breasted, the lapels wide and patterned with black lace. The shirt, vest, and tie were the palest lavender, silken, and the buttons and cufflinks were clasped with a milky stone. Neji's hair was drawn back from his face by two combs, diamonds and more of the cloudy gems, and the combination of colors brought out ivory complexion and the amethyst tones of Neji's eyes. The only other accessory was the locket that hung by a finely-wrought necklace to his breastbone.

On Neji's arm was Shikamaru, resplendent in the colors of the earth. Deep brown tux, forest green shirt, golden cufflinks and buttons. His hair was in loose waves to his shoulders, thin pieces held back by nearly invisible pins. Instead of a tie, he wore a fascinating piece of jewelry that seemed to be a chainmail necktie. Shikamaru's hands were in his pockets, smirk playing across his lips, and he matched Neji's stride as they crossed the room. Itachi admired the confidence in the pair of brilliant men, happy for the obvious connection they had and for the grace they exuded.

"Itachi," Neji said, reaching to clasp not Itachi's hand, but beyond it to Itachi's wrist; an old-world indicator of trust and affection, one citizen to another. "You have a beautiful home."

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

"It is my sincere delight that we are well met within it," Itachi said, and Neji's smile was as radiant as it was cunning. Itachi turned to Shikamaru. "Excellent to see you again. I did so enjoy our last meeting."

Shikamaru chuckled, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. "I appreciated your, ah, willingness to answer my call of need."

"It was our pleasure," Itachi replied, fondly remembering his boys lying bound side by side with impaled sex organs straining for release they would not find for many hours while Itachi patiently walked Shikamaru through a tutorial on urethral play. "I trust your endeavors were fruitful?" Itachi asked Neji, politely.

"Entirely," Neji answered, and Shikamaru managed to squirm while standing and staring at the floor. Such a pretty sight, that; it sped Itachi's heart and had him pulling Kimimaro closer.

"Kimimaro," Neji said with affectionate reverence, reaching for Itachi's sweet boy.

"Master Neji," Kimi intoned, inclining his chin and quickening when Neji took Kimi's hand and brushed lips to the knuckles before letting go. "And Master Shikamaru." 

"Hey," Shikamaru answered, leaning against his Master when Neji drew him near.

"Are we the first to arrive?" Neji asked.

"You are," said Itachi.

"Told you we'd be early," Shikamaru mumbled.

"And despite what you may think, that's not a crime." Neji kissed Shika's temple, eyes alight on Itachi. "I suppose it would be too much to think that your younger brother would beat us to this soiree."

"Ah," Itachi said, the regret real. "He and his lover declined to attend tonight."

"How unfortunate."

Itachi chuckled at Neji's insincerity, but he couldn't blame the man. Itachi knew better than most how impossible Sasuke could be. "Well, I believe my sibling is as yet discomforted by my situation."

Shikamaru snorted. "He just hates getting shown up."

Kimimaro laughed, coughed, glanced at Itachi and then stared at the floor. Itachi ran fingers up and down Kimimaro's spine. "The depths of my gratitude for my lovers' desires of affection, position, and loyalty are without bounds. It pains me that Sasuke would let jealousy trump such a truism, but it is a circumstance that I cannot fix."

"Well said," Neji praised, practically purring, and sleepy delight fluttered in Itachi's breast. In response to the compliment or in curiosity as to what the beautiful Hyuuga would be like lost in a state where Neji could do little more other than sing a soft song of pleasure, Itachi didn't know. Likely both. Itachi didn't care to limit himself by considering merely one side of any equation.

"I'm sure there will be plenty of people to keep the occasion entertaining," Neji continued. "Who else might be attending?"

Itachi inclined his head toward Kimimaro, who straightened for the explanatory task. "Easier to speak of who will not be coming, first. Masters Iruka and Kakashi sent their regrets, as did Master Tenzou."

Neji clucked his tongue. "Not even an offer as sweet as this could move Tenzou from his self-inflicted penance, I suppose."

"Suffering is rather a lost art." Itachi kept his contradiction careful, and he closed his eyes briefly when Kimimaro squeezed his arm. "The man will ache for so long as it suits him."

"I fear you are correct," Neji said dully.

"We sent our concerns in reply to Master Tenzou's response," Kimimaro said, nervous and earnest and entirely perfect. Itachi continued to pet the sweet boy's lower back. "I hoped that perhaps he might be spending an evening with Master Asuma, who will also not be attending," Kimimaro finished.

Neji laughed. "Good for you for the effort to introduce surrealism into Asuma's existence."

"Whatever do you mean?" Itachi asked, but with a deliberate inflection that none of the men missed. 

"Masters Byakuya and Renji send their apologies for being otherwise engaged, and Masters Kakazu and Hidan are still touring holy lands abroad."

Itachi thought it unfortunate that the heir to Kuchiki Stone could not make it, as he liked the somber, contemplative man. Byakuya had a kinky streak ten miles wide, and that Renji character seemed well equipped to handle every inch of it. He said nothing on the matter, however, observing Neji make mental note on the location of the two rather volatile players, Hidan and Kakazu. Itachi kept his expression neutral. He knew that truces were often built on unstable foundations, and he had no qualms with Neji keeping an eye on Kakazu and Hidan, nor did he regret his connection to the pair. There were amusing and often up for heated debates ending in bloodshed. Such things were not beyond Itachi's purview of enjoyment.

"That's quite the list," Shikamaru observed.

"Truly," Itachi agreed with a smirk that he was told could chill the ice caps. "But never fear, your Master's hunger for expanding social connections among the eccentric will be well fed, this eve."

Neji was about to parry, which would no doubt be as amusing as it was thrilling, but the steward clacked heel and bent on a ninety degree angle. "Kisame Hoshigaki."

"Case in point," Itachi mused, bracing for impact as the imposing man strode across the room. Born of Japanese and Armenian parents, Kisame was a complex array of throwback genetics. He was slightly taller than Itachi, with a broad, flat face, thick lips, strong chin, and dark hair and eyes. In his early forties, Kisame still maintained a muscular physique that rivaled competitive strong men, and tonight his tux was a simple black affair with a very standard bow tie, but the fit was expert and the lines crisp. Diamonds gleamed in both earlobes and from multiple rings worn on various fingers, and when he smiled, Itachi saw the tiny clear gems that were embedded in the enamel of Kisame's front teeth. Trading in antiquities did serve Kisame well.

"Itachi," Kisame growled in a rasping, gritty voice that indicated a set of lungs marred by smoke. He took Itachi's outstretched hand, and, with a warning flick of deep-set eyes, tugged Itachi into a rough embrace.

"Kisame. Welcome to my home."

"'bout time you came out of your hole."

"All things on their own schedule."

Kisame roared a laugh. "Meaning you'll do what you damned well please." He shook Itachi's shoulder and retreated with a nod of his head that was the saving grace to shore up Itachi's irritation. "You've not changed. But tell me," Kisame openly admired Kimimaro, "is this really Oro's old boytoy?"

Itachi was about to offer an appropriate retort, but Kimimaro bristled, and met Kisame's eyes with a defiance that inspired such pride and joy in Itachi, it stole breath and words. "I am my own man, if you please, Kisame, and it suits me to pledge allegiance to a Master who cares for my heart and well-being."

"My brother in submission speaks true," said Haku, and Neji, Shikamaru, Kisame, Itachi, and Kimimaro all focused on the slender, beautiful boy who glided into their midst to smile with equal parts disdain and pleasure. "And were I be so bold and brazen, I would request that our beloved Master's ears not be sullied with reminders of lives long left to decay, for all that my brother and I know of, now, is the sincere joy of service to our lover and Master, Our Lord Uchiha." 

Kisame was silent along with the rest of the group, and then he brought his hands together in slow applause. He planted his feet, crossed his chest, and bowed low to Kimimaro, Haku, and Itachi. Kisame always was irritating in his ability to do the surprising. "Itachi, you've outdone yourself."

"A group effort," Itachi said, shifting his weight to accommodate the slight swell of his cock. 

"My Lord is too kind," Haku said, and he extended a slender hand to be caught and kissed by Kisame. "Would you be gentleman enough to accompany me to refresh my drink and fetch you one of your own? The bartender on duty tonight is thoroughly skilled."

"To hear more of your sweet song, little bird, I'll try to remember my manners." Kisame flashed a toothy grin to Haku's fearless chuckle.

"My thanks," Haku replied, curling around Kisame's bicep. "And have no doubt, dear friend, for should you lapse into old ways, I'm certain My Lord can remind you of the gelding practices of yore."

Kisame positively cackled, and Itachi had to busy himself inhaling Kimimaro's hair, else he laugh out loud at the unmasked look of horror on Shikamaru's face.

"I believe we'll follow," Neji said.

"Awesome," Shika muttered, but went along as the foursome headed toward the nervous, bartender target.

Itachi watched them go, tightening his hold on his partner, who had just stood up to a man who knew Kimi from Before, and who had just asserted power and choice and the satisfaction therein. "You are beautiful in every way, my sweet, brave boy," Itachi whispered to a shaking Kimimaro. "In strength and obedience, you arouse my interest and my very being." Turning, Itachi purposefully slid his groin against Kimimaro's thigh, and the very real evidence of the truth in Itachi's words pulled a sound that translated to gratitude and eagerness in Itachi's mind. Kimi's cheeks darkened, lashes lowered, and the metal through lip and flesh shined in distracting and appealing ways. Kimi covered and clung to Itachi's hand, and Itachi managed to place another kiss to Kimimaro's temple before Sasori and Deidara were announced, and the couple began to traipse toward them. Itachi carefully stayed pressed against Kimimaro, unwilling to break the contact that his boy seemed to need for solace.

"Always did  _ love _ your little palace in the hills," Deidara said by way of greeting, and Itachi took a few seconds to lift himself out of the concentration he adored giving Kimi and Haku. 

Deidara's ballgown helped.

Resplendent in crimson silks that spilled from a fitted bodice covered in black lace panels, Deidara positively preened, flipping open a red lace fan in a coy gesture. His eyes were lined and artfully enhanced, cheeks rouged, lips colored in shades of blood, and his blond hair was piled high in a nod to Victorian wigs. His shoulders were made narrower by the width of the skirts, his waist carved by the bone stays, and the cut of the gown was French, the top of the bodice barely covering nipples. He wore garnets encircled by diamonds on his fingers and about his throat, and his skin was dusted with a pale powder that smelled like a garden.

"Why, Itachi, I do believe you're staring," Deidara teased, smug in his beauty and lessening it with the pride.

Sasori snorted. He wore a traditional, formal Japanese kimono in black silks, the only adornment on the fabric the five  _ kamon _ . In his hand, however, was a thin, reed-like cane. It, too, was black, though shiny, and its head was wide and flat, like a crop. Sasori tipped his wrist and snapped the instrument through the air, landing it across the front of Deidara's skirt. Deidara took the warning in stride, sidestepping to touch Sasori's elbow and to curtsey when Sasori bowed. 

"It's lovely to see you both," Itachi said, entertained as always by Deidara's love of Sasori's unchecked cruelty.

"You're looking well," Sasori said, voice its usual flat monotone. Itachi didn't take offense; he understood that for Sasori to speak civilly at all to anyone was a compliment and a mark of respect.

"As are you." Itachi indulged himself by gesturing for Deidara's hand, which was promptly given. Instead of kissing or squeezing it, however, Itachi smiled at the impish Deidara and smacked the back of Dei's hand like a parent might do to a small child. Itachi didn't bother restraining the force, either, and Deidara flinched, pupils dilating and tongue snaking to wet a lower lip.

"Behave, pretty," Itachi warned. "Or I'll ask Sasori to withhold his torture while you're under my roof, and invite him to stay as my revered guest for as long as he wishes."

Deidara's expression turned bleak, but he curtsied lower, chin to sternum. "Thank you, Lord Itachi."

Sasori gave Itachi a look that bordered on pleased, and took Deidara's arm and steered them further into the room. Haku swept to Deidara and gave kisses to both Deidara's cheeks.

"Didn't we invite someone to keep those two occupied?" Itachi asked Kimimaro.

"We did, Master."

"Thank God," Itachi sighed, and Kimimaro rested his head on Itachi's shoulder with a light laugh. Itachi encircled Kimi with one arm, holding the boy and taking a moment's peace. In short order, Deidara earned several strikes from Sasori's cane, and Dei's delighted shrieks filled the room over Kisame's raucous laughter. Haku clapped and twirled like a schoolgirl, calling for two shot glasses and linking arms with Deidara to drink them dry. Neji bowed to Sasori, gesturing toward the cane, and Shikamaru said something that earned a laugh from the Hyuuga and a long stare from Sasori, appraising and interested.

It was so odd to see the elite mingle in his library like it were a common thing, and Itachi puzzled over his contentment until the steward's voice rang out like the blat of a horn: "Soubi Agatsuma."

"Master," Kimimaro murmured, in encouragement, Itachi thought, though Itachi held his ground and didn't cross to the hesitant man entering the room and embrace Soubi as he longed to do. None of Itachi's past was a secret or a mystery to the two men who shared his present, and both his boys knew what Soubi meant to Itachi. The studious, pained, broken child was near and dear to Itachi's heart, though when he last knew Soubi, when he had the quiet, aching child bound and begging and finally nearer to bliss rather than to grief, said heart was still encased in frigid steel.

Soubi stayed near the doors, toying with his hands and tugging at the sleeves of his plain, traditional tuxedo. The cut didn't suit him, and the white scarf he wore around his throat and tucked beneath his vest hurt Itachi, struck vital organs in killing blows. 

"Master, please," Kimimaro begged. "Go to him before he simply leaves."

Itachi mustered the courage to do as his boy requested, but Haku was already there. Cautious and genteel, Haku approached the tall, lithe blond swathed in rented attire. Haku waved a hand in the air, a flippant gesture of artificial irritation, and Soubi's shoulders relaxed by fractions. Soubi stepped nearer Haku, who read the language like an open book and took the opportunity it offered. Haku clasped both Soubi's hands, Soubi blinking behind round-framed glasses in shock, and, with a silver tongue and careless toss of curls, Haku eased Soubi over the initial fright and toward Itachi and Kimimaro. 

Itachi didn't have the words for the love he held for Haku in that moment. Nor for the affection that tried to drown him when Kimimaro gently, oh so terribly gently, urged Itachi a step forward while taking a position a pace behind. 

"Really?" Haku was saying. "What do you study, there?"

"Art," Soubi answered, still so unsure but so incredible for the courage. Soubi's natural poise tried to rise to the occasion, faltering but strident. "Art history, actually."

"Oh!" Haku replied. "Do you know Deidara, then?" He gestured toward the man in question. "He's a sculptor of some renown in the area."

"I-I've seen him," Soubi said, but his eyes had landed on Itachi, and Haku bridged the gap between Itachi and Soubi, holding a hand of each.

"My Lord, I've met and fetched you Soubi, who tells me he's a student at Monoshizukanohi University, and who is, I fear, most worried to have joined a room full of such eccentrics." Haku smiled at Soubi. "I've reassured him we'll take good care of him. Keep him close?"

"It'd be my honor," Itachi said, and when Soubi's face fell into a scowl to mask the rise of unwanted emotion, Itachi allowed himself to hug his lost submissive, to tuck Soubi's head into Itachi's chest and neck, and to murmur a soothing sound. Soubi was stiff, startled by the affection, but Itachi paid it no mind. The reaction, the party, the room, and the sentiment of others be damned, he would not let himself repeat negligent errors, nor have Soubi think for a second that being here was a mistake. "I'm so glad you came, Soubi. Thank you."

Soubi let out a shaky exhale, resolve weakening before the force of Itachi's honesty, and at long last he gripped Itachi's jacket, struggling not to break away but to give himself permission to accept the assurance. Itachi removed his hat so he could better form a cocoon around the man in his arms. Haku placed it on a nearby table, and both Haku and Kimimaro flanked Soubi, understanding and empathy clear in their eyes. 

"Stop it," Soubi muttered, retreating slightly to remove his glasses, which had fogged. Discovering he did not have the leeway to wipe them, he folded them, instead, obviously working hard to keep his voice steady despite eyes that swam in clear seas. "Please. All these people. Don't want to make... or be..."

"You speak as though those assembled in this room have not seen tears," Itachi said, thumb wiping a wet line from Soubi's cheek. "Or that they don't have memory enough to remember our time together or experience to know that reuniting can be overwhelming for the most mastered of men. I assure you, Soubi, no false judgment will fall upon you while in my home."

Soubi's fist clenched around his spectacles, and he wouldn't look at Itachi directly. "I'm such an idiot," he said, but Itachi recognized that the phrase was not a statement at all, but a question hidden in self-reprimand, a plea for assistance to put doubt to rest.

"I should have said good-bye," Itachi said, and he cherished his men for their synchronized approach to touch Soubi's shoulder and back when Soubi tried to get away from the truth so desired but so difficult to hear. Itachi chased after the retreat, conquered the brief resistance, and returned Soubi to the circle of Itachi's arms. "I've thought and worried for you, Soubi, and you were not wrong to think such feelings still exist. They do."

Now Soubi began to shake his head, and Itachi cupped a palm over Soubi's nape, rubbed and stopped the unconscious denial, not letting it take root. "And while I cannot be the Master I know you need, I hope you'll let me be the friend and the comfort you may seek."

"God," Soubi said, bowing his chin, and when he couldn't move, when he strained against the gentle entrapment and discovered its solidity, he trembled, violently. Haku petted Soubi's hair, and it was a marker of how distraught Soubi was that he didn't seem to notice. Itachi waited with cultivated patience in the pregnant silence of the library. He felt the genuine concern emanating from the likes of Neji and Shikamaru, heard the rustle of silk and pour of wine and liquor. For all Itachi cared, they could stand like this for the entire night and into the days beyond. Soubi needed to understand Itachi's intentions, needed to be given moments to find joy in belief, and Itachi could hold the line indefinitely with such ends in sight.

Soubi's mouth opened, closed, formed a clamped line, and for a terrible second, Itachi thought he'd lost Soubi behind the walls Soubi had to create around a core so wounded. He thought Soubi would tell Itachi to let go, and Itachi would obey without question. Itachi would never blame Soubi for such a choice; he knew he'd wronged this gentle, masochistic creature. Itachi had committed the crime of listening, tending, and then vanishing, and though Itachi knew he'd never promised more than fleeting encounters, knew he could not blame himself for creating those boundaries or for needing the temporary or the leaving in the face of great change, he would mourn the death of future opportunity to make amends should Soubi choose to keep distance.

Sniffing, Soubi unfolded and returned his glasses to his nose, swallowed, and dared a glance at Itachi. The millimeter lean toward and not away was enough for Itachi to feel comfortable holding Soubi against him again, and though relief was thick on the air, the steward was lost and uneasy enough that he didn't announce the arrival of the next guest. Clack, step, drag went heavy cane and slow tread, and Nagato entered to the steward's embarrassed fumbling, to Deidara's gasp and the snap of Sasori's reed, and all fell to echoes in the trilling silence. 

Now it was Itachi's turn to want to bury himself in the arms of his lovers, as at the sight of His Excellency, of Pein Incarnate, of Itachi's old lover, Master, and mentor, Itachi's knees went watery while his backbone hardened. Nagato emitted a presence that was unlike any other Itachi had ever encountered: malignant, terrific, interest coupled with miasmic sadness. Nagato walked the earth like it was a graveyard meant to be plundered for corpses to animate into false companionship. Pein was a keen man, sometimes a kind one, but always an intimately understanding one. A strange trait found in a sadist so enlivened by blood and torment, but Itachi knew better than most that Nagato treasured those who could survive beneath the lash Nagato lived to give, and Nagato cherished and craved any affection that might be left over after the wounding was finished.

Nagato scanned the room, his umber eyes strafing constantly with the Nystagmus affliction. His tuxedo was deep purple with vertical stripes with a matching vest and a thick, black silk tie in an old fashioned knot. He wore a black hat, a pocket watch on a chain tucked into a pouch on his vest, the claw clasp on the opposite side, and his gray-streaked auburn hair was longer, now, past his shoulders. His narrow face was handsome, high cheekbones and few lines, but pinched in eternal suffering. Arthritis slowed Nagato's step and interrupted his sleep, but it never impinged on his swing.

With a quick rise and fall of eyebrow, Nagato started for Itachi, Soubi, Kimimaro, and Haku, the cadence of his approach timed to Itachi's pulse. Nagato nodded in greeting to the rest of the assembled, and Kimi and Haku faced front, bowed, and stood on either side of Itachi, who continued to cradle Soubi. 

"My Martyr," Nagato said, inquisitive stare on Soubi, who, for his part, shivered at the sound of Nagato's accented, rich voice. "In care of the fallen, I see."

"So was I caught, so I must repay the favor."

Nagato's cane heralded his final approach, and he paused an arm's length from Soubi. He seemed sympathetic and wistful, and Itachi rose above the trained longing to dive into the need to please this esoteric and exotic man. "A pretty one," Nagato murmured, syllables slow, "to whom the alms are due."

Itachi met Nagato's silent question with one of his own, and entire conversations as to the nature of Itachi's slight, the pangs of regret Itachi harbored, and the inquiry after Nagato's possible interest happened in a strike of intuitive lightning. Nagato answered Itachi's query with a lingering look at Soubi, a slight upturn of lip, and an infinitesimally small tilt of chin. A spark of hope ignited in Itachi's guts, and he saw the path to a peace treaty to stop a war fought on two fronts. There may be a way to ease two sets of grief: Soubi's shattered hope and Nagato's magnified loneliness. Perhaps at one time, it would have been too much even to contemplate; too perfect and too tidy. But after one discovers the sun still shines despite all the gray, idealism was an easier medicine to swallow.

Gingerly, Itachi unwound Soubi to grasp Soubi's shoulders and saw with amazement and veneration that Soubi was floating. Unseeing eyes, blush tinting the tips of ears and face, Soubi was losing ground in the fight to stay present and accounted for. Itachi knew Soubi: the man probably had fretted and thought over this meeting for weeks, worried over it all day, likely nearly died twice on the ride to the manor, and had almost fled after being announced and again after being embraced. Soubi ran from potential contentment for grounded if tragic reasons, and it was no wonder the poor man was overwrought.

"Dear Soubi, let us--"

"Yes," Soubi whispered, more a rasped breath of a word than a real expression of language. He tried to say more, but Itachi silenced him with a kiss to his forehead. Itachi didn't like making anyone admit to something difficult twice unless absolutely necessary.

"Then friends we will be and comfort you will have, gentle Soubi. Kimimaro, could you guide Soubi to the restroom and atrium, let him relax away from the rigors of the gathering before dinner?"

"Of course, Master," Kimi answered, but Soubi flinched, shoulders hunching.

"What is it, dear one?"

"Could... could  _ he _ escort me?" Soubi asked.

Kimimaro looked at Haku, who glanced at Nagato and smiled triumphantly at Itachi.  _ Game, set, match, My Lord," _ Haku chirped without actual speech.  _ "Well played."  _

Kimi stepped away from Soubi in pre-emptive acquiescence, and Itachi and Nagatos' eyes met. Itachi made his gaze unmovable, unwavering, and Nagato responded with a tightening grip on the head of the cane, a single blink, and a brief touch of palm to chest: a promise of respect that Itachi knew Nagato would keep. Itachi smiled at the man who broke him into pieces so that Itachi could reform his ashes, and Nagato clack-stepped closer. Soubi's tiny groan was music to Itachi's ears.

"The halls are twisted, the lighting poor, and the doorways many," Nagato said, breath moving strands of Soubi's hair. "But I know my way through much enacted practice."

"I get lost easily," Soubi answered, still hanging on to Itachi's lapels and pressing his temple to Itachi's lips. 

Nagato leaned further, played a single finger touch to the seam of Soubi's jacket. "Then you should take my arm, little one, for I will guide you to find your peace around the course of events or join you in the dark for adventures to be found in wicked company away from prying eyes."

Soubi's breathing hitched, he stood on tiptoe to kiss Itachi's mouth, and spun, unsteadily until Itachi caught him. Itachi restrained both of Soubi's arms and presented him to Nagato, who didn't retreat from the invasion of personal space by one degree. Soubi's gasp was loud, cut in the center, and Nagato never blinked in the sweeping assessment from Soubi's eyes to shoes to head, again, and offered a gloved hand. "Oh yes," Nagato rasped, the hunger making Itachi's groin tingle. "You'll do."

"My humble thanks, Your Grace," Soubi whispered. Itachi let go, and Soubi transferred his hold from Itachi to Nagato in a simple movement that carried significance enough to make both Haku and Kimimaro sigh.

"Always interesting, My Martyr," Nagato said, heading for the door with Soubi in tow and pausing in front of the steward who tried with all sincerity to look like nothing unusual was happening. "Until dinner, then?"

"As you wish," Itachi said, with a nod and a pang of jealous nostalgia quickly buried beneath eternal thanks, as both his men clung to him, and all three of them waited until Nagato led Soubi from the room. 

"Perhaps a seat, My Lord?" Haku said with unveiled respect.

"Yes, lovely boy, I think that's wise." Itachi's lovers assisted Itachi into a winged back chair, and Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose. He was at once drained and quickened by the unfolding of circumstance, and the solace of his treasures' presence was a gift from the gods, themselves.

"I'll fetch something to drink," Kimimaro said, trotting toward the bar. 

"For what it may be worth, I believe you just did a remarkable thing." 

Itachi looked up at Neji, who stood on the fringes of the circle the furniture made. Itachi gestured to a sofa, and Neji sat, Shikamaru standing behind him. The other guests milled around aimlessly, and Haku left to entertain them when Kimimaro returned with a glass of cool water, no ice. Itachi sipped. "Thank you."

"Starrk Coyote-Coletti!" The steward bellowed, evidently making up for his oversight with Nagato by adding volume to ensuing announcements.

"Kimi," Itachi said, and the tone was all the detail Itachi needed to give. Kimimaro fled to head off Starrk, who wasn't intolerable by any means, but Itachi couldn't handle the heir to the sports car fortune at the moment. He glanced at the latest guest, admiring the gleaming white tuxedo and matching fedora, with midnight blue hat sash, vest, shirt, and tie. The ensemble would look ridiculous on most people, but with the Italian skin and coloring, it made Starrk look like an extra in a gangster film, which suited the lazy bastard far more than it should. The bone tattoo of a monster's bottom jaw encircling Starrk's neck certainly aided the illusion. Itachi knew Starrk from Haze. Starrk never played, always observed, and Itachi often wondered if Starrk's lover, a half-sister by the name of Lilynette whose involvement with Starrk was quite the scandal, didn't like the lifestyle or if she sent Starrk to the club to get ideas.

"Who's that?" Shikamaru asked, leaning to speak to Neji.

"A playboy who amuses me," Itachi answered, relaxing when Starrk seemed all too enthralled by Kimimaro's metalworks. "No one of note for your political radar, Neji, I fear, though now that Haze appears to be shutting down, he would be a good candidate for Break."

"So he does mean to do it, then?" Neji asked. 

Itachi shrugged. "Nagato always has his reasons, though he may appear fickle. He is, however, entirely true to his word."

"Izumo Kamizuki, Kotetsu Hagane, Genma Shiranui, Raidou Namiashi, and Ibiki Morino." 

"Goodness," Itachi said idly, sipping his drink.

"You invited the chief of fuckin' police to--" Shikamaru began, incredulous, but stopped short when he saw the quintet. 

All five men wore tuxedoes crafted from dull, black, pliable leather. Izumo and Ibiki's shirts were also black, along with their wide ties, but Kotetsu, Genma, and Raidou's shirts were crisp white. Around the latter three's throats were not ties or jewelry but heavy, wide, black leather collars, the fronts fitted with rings. Attached to the rings were fine lengths of silver chain. Kotetsu's led to Izumo, and Genma and Raidou's led to Ibiki. They all moved toward Haku's enthusiastic greeting with a sort of begrudging pride; as though they were waiting a challenge to their presentation. Itachi rather enjoyed knowing that no such negative advance would be made. The men were quite free to slave or enslave in this house.

"Technically, no," Itachi answered Shikamaru. "We invited two police  _ officers _ , Genma and Raidou, who met Kimimaro during my boy's divorce from his previous Master. They, in turn, requested Ibiki's admittance, and I granted it. Now that I see the why behind the proposal, I must say I'm delighted I did."

"Undoubtedly," Neji said, distracted and rising. "If you'll excuse me?"

Itachi nodded with a rolling wave of his hand, and Neji and Shikamaru joined the cluster of men and boys. Trays of appetizers entered the room on the shoulders of serving staff, and conversation lifted to a dull roar. Itachi laughed out loud when Ibiki made a show of appreciation for Deidara and squared off with Sasori as a result. It was a stalemate, broken by a belligerent Kisame and a joke told in poor taste, and Itachi relaxed when the strange chemistry of the guests managed to meld.

There was a scuffle at the entrance, and Itachi saw the steward quietly arguing with the boy who was running from the front door to the library with names. The steward's displeasure was merely a line of hardening muscle across shapely shoulders, and the man huffed at the ceiling. "Old man and baby chick." 

Knowing precisely who that was, Itachi flinched, bracing for impact, and Gunji was laughing a high, wheezing whine before either guest came into view. Kiriwar rounded the corner first, wearing a black suit with shiny red satin lapels, vest, and tie. Gunji was in the exact opposite: blazing red suit with black lapels, vest, and tie. Kiriwar's jet hair was tipped electric blue, and Gunji's blond waves were tamed into a low tail. Upon hearing the steward finish the aggrieved announcement, Deidara shrieked, and ran for the arriving pair in a whirl of silk and curls. Gunji picked Deidara up and spun him around while Kiriwar and Sasori slapped one another on the back, and Itachi was consummately relieved when neither of the thug bodyguards to the CEO of Penchant Pharmaceuticals paid a lick of attention to their hosts. Let Deidara and Sasori keep the other duo who barely escaped padded cell doom occupied. Abitro, Gunji and Kiriwar's boss, left a foul taste in Itachi's mouth, and the bodyguards weren't much better. 

Inviting them did serve multiple purposes, however. While Dei and Gunji babbled like school girls, Neji and Ibiki talked amongst their group, making record, no doubt, on new men to watch from afar. Kimimaro loosed himself from Staark and greeted his fellow poker night players, bowing to Ibiki and to Izumo in turn. 

Itachi accepted a bite of shellfish from an offered tray just as the naming boy dashed away and the steward clacked heel. "Abel Nightroad and Miroku Saga."

Adrenaline dumped into Itachi's veins, and he rose from his chair to greet Abel, whom he'd not seen in many years. It'd been more than a decade ago that the Uchiha Corporation needed a consultant on a previously-military class technology investment, and Abel had been the man for the job. Abel had advised them well and with thorough honesty and then gone about business.

The background check, however, that the company performed on Abel turned up an interesting tidbit or two, and when Itachi had initially sought a companion to inflict pain and suffering, the first man he went to had been one Abel Nightroad. They had not been compatible, however, at the time, for Abel's schedule was erratic and his view of Scene did not encompass the kind of torture Itachi required. The parting had been amicable, made easier by Abel's recommendation that Itachi seek out a man named Nagato at a place called Haze, and recently Abel's name had been called to the fore yet again, as Itachi mulled over a passing comment made by one of his beloved boys.

Tonight, Abel looked artfully rumpled but attractive in his dusky gray tux lined with sleek black satin. His shirt was the color of a thunderstorm, his silver hair, now much longer than it had been in the days of military service, was pulled into a low tail held back by a shining bow, and the smile he cast at Itachi was easy, comfortable, and genuine.

"Lord Uchiha," Abel said, bypassing a handshake and embracing Itachi, instead. "It is a pleasure to see you. I'm so sorry I'm behind schedule. It's been a while since I've been this far out into the country, and we took a wrong turn or three on our scenic route."

"I'm just happy you were on the proper continent to attend," Itachi replied, enchanted by the creases at the corners of Abel's sky blue eyes. Abel's age had always been difficult to determine by appearance alone. Though the man was around fifty, now, Itachi knew, Abel seemed not to have advanced a day in the last decade. He was still slender, narrow-waisted, and graceful, and the hands covered in thin, gray gloves, were expressive in their gestures.

"I was here to house a friend," Abel said, indicating his companion and giving Itachi a pained look. "I apologize for not explaining in my RSVP that I would have a guest, I hope that's--"

"It's of no moment," Itachi said, grasping Abel's upper arm in a comforting squeeze and extending the other hand to Miroku: younger, lively, dark of hair and eyes, and wearing a set of black formal priest robes that flowed about his person in positively enthralling sways of fabric. 

"Evening," Miroku said, glancing around the room with a fleeting frown followed by an expression of clear distress. "Nice land. Good house. But there are... remarkably few  _ women _ in attendance to this party of yours."

Itachi wasn't sure how to answer that, precisely, and Abel chuckled, nervously. "Ah, Miroku and I are friends through the search of faith, if you will," he explained. "He was once apprenticed to a monk of a very specialized and oddly liberal order--"

"Oh! But there's food!" Miroku interjected, chasing after a servant in a mad dash, as though the man would try to escape Miroku's attentions. Itachi briefly entertained the thought that he couldn't blame the server if he  _ did _ run.

"We met at a lecture," Abel summarized, sighing in a slump. "And he dropped in on me with short notice and a sob story of starvation."

"I see," Itachi said with sympathy, encircling an arm around Abel's shoulders and bemused when Abel rested his head briefly on Itachi's chest. Itachi resisted the temptation to kiss Abel's unlined brow or inhale too deeply of Abel's scent. "I trust your work goes well?"

"It does," Abel said, straightening to nod but staying within Itachi's reach.

"And I trust you are still unable to divulge details about said work?"

Abel's smile was real but chillier, sad, Itachi thought, and perhaps a touch lonely. "You are correct."

"Mm," Itachi mused, waving down a serving boy. "Excuse me, but could you fetch my friend some hot tea from the kitchen? With -- what was it, thirteen sugars?"

Abel's grin lit up his face. "You remembered!"

"Of course," said the boy, bowing and scampering off to complete the task.

"It's a hard detail to forget," Itachi admitted. "And while I have you for a moment, I must confess I have something to discuss with you at a later but nearby date, should you have such time." Abel's focus was immediate and encompassing, and Itachi made a soft sound of satisfaction. He did like this man, addiction to religion, worship of propriety, and maintenance of secret affairs notwithstanding. 

"I'm in the area for some months, I believe," Abel said, quieter.

"Good," Itachi said. "And if I may be so bold as to ask, you're not, ah, involved with your wayward friend?"

"Miroku?" Abel was aghast. "Heavens  _ no _ ." He shuddered and calmed himself, one hand smoothing invisible debris off his jacket. "I am, as always, unattached." He stepped closer, studying Itachi, eyes straying to mouth and back again. "Does that suit your purposes?"

"It does." Itachi didn't back down a millimeter, and Abel's lips parted, insatiable appetite present, unsatisfied, and caged through willpower alone. Itachi softened his stance while his cock responded to the slight uptick of Abel's respiration. He wondered if Abel remembered their lone night together as well or as often as Itachi did, though he believed he had an answer when the backs of Itachi's fingers caressed Abel's shirt over flat belly with terrifically light pressure, and Abel's breath left in a harsh exhale. 

"If you're a  _ man _ , then why are you in a  _ dress? _ "

Trance broken as though they'd been caught fucking in an elementary school gymnasium, Itachi and Abel turned in sync to spy Miroku flailing away from Deidara, who gave chase with gleeful sadism.

"Oh dear," Abel sighed, clasping Itachi's hand in acknowledgement of imminent separation. "I should probably..."

"Yes. Go." Itachi urged Abel toward the display.

"But I am interested," Abel said, pausing. "With you, it's always... interesting."

Itachi deliberately smiled. "We'll be in touch."

"Very well, then." Abel tipped a bow and swept toward the wailing Miroku, who flailed and fought in vain against Deidara, who held Miroku down and tried to chase protesting lips for a kiss. Itachi chuckled, and had two seconds to bask in a job well completed and a venture well initiated before the final two guests appeared in the doorway.

"Gaara Sabaku and Kiba Inuzkua."

"Damn," Kiba rasped, bending to say something to Gaara that made the redhead chuckle. Kiba held Gaara about the waist, tightly, as though loathe to let go. Itachi couldn't blame Kiba for the sentiment in the slightest, and he found Kimimaro and Haku's positions in the room for sheer comfort's sake.

"Good evening," Itachi said, sweeping toward the pair and earning the honor of greeting them first. Kiba grinned, pale green eyes flashing. Upon a single glance, Kiba's tux was plain, matte black, but further inspection showed that the lining was patterned in brilliant, royal colors. His shirt was deep blue, and he'd forgone a tie of any sort, leaving his collar undone to show a glimpse of tan skin and the very tip of a tattoo. On anyone else, it'd look uncouth, but on Kiba the incomplete attire added to the sex appeal that positively dripped off the man's canines and extremities.

Gaara was more traditional, though stunning in the rarity of formal fashion. The tuxedo was pale gray with pearly silver stitching and accents along the lapels and cuffs. His long tie, vest, and dress shirt were a red deep and rich enough to match his hair, which was longer and curling at the ends. He moved without stiffness or evidence of the violence visited upon him, and though he did not offer a hand, he did tip his chin and quirk pale pink lips in a modest effort of cordiality. 

"Itachi," Kiba said, pulling the taller man into a rough embrace, which Itachi returned. "Good to see ya."

"Likewise. And Gaara, a pleasure, as always."

"Some instances more than others," Gaara pointed out, much to Itachi's pleased shock. The man had to be referring to their encounter some time ago, now, and Itachi was sure Gaara had willed that night into the hazy fugue of forgotten memory.

Gaara's expression gained a few notes of mischievous, and he stepped closer. "I need to ask you something."

"Aw, hell, here we go." Kiba sighed at the ceiling.

"Oh?" Itachi asked, thoroughly curious.

"He won't tell me about the deal," Gaara said, luminous gaze fixed stubbornly upon Itachi. 

"Deal?" Itachi repeated, but Kiba clucked tongue and cocked an eyebrow, head tipping in the general direction of the rear of the manor, which was where one of the doors leading to the winding basements beneath the home could be found. "Ah," Itachi continued in enlightenment, amused. " _ That _ deal."

"Was there more than one?" Gaara asked.

"Not with me," Itachi replied, honestly. "Why won't you speak of it?" he asked Kiba.

"'cause it annoys him."

Gaara rolled his eyes, but he let Kiba kiss his hair. "I remember that night. At Break. Your first. I remember thinking it was odd to see you. Like that."

"Not so odd," Itachi said with a shrug, fascinated by Gaara's clipped way of speaking. Sensing that Kiba didn't mind Itachi divulging information, Itachi spoke further: "It was a mutually beneficial exchange. I wished to make a fair impression on the owners of Break in order to make a proposal to one of their employees, and your lover wished to put on a show that might garner your attention."

Gaara turned to Kiba, and though Itachi couldn't read the unspoken communication, Kiba evidently understood. "Don't look at me like that. I  _ did _ try other shit first, baby."

"You did?" Gaara asked, dubious.

"Sure. Bought ya drinks you didn't take. Asked yer friends to give ya messages you didn't get. Sat next to ya durin' time outs at Bliss at the bar. Danced my ass off in front 'a yer booth." Kiba laughed. "Nothin'. I tried t'talk to ya more than once, too, but ya didn't hear me. Flipped me off a few times, though."

Gaara seemed to sort through that information, and Neji and Shikamaru hovered on the fringe of the cluster, waiting their turn to say hello. 

"What did you get?" Gaara asked Itachi after a moment's reflection.

"A reputation with the owners of the clubs other than my history at Haze," Itachi answered smoothly.

Gaara's eyes narrowed. "And?"

Kiba snorted, and Itachi admired Gaara's razor edge awareness. Itachi conceded the point with a lowered gaze that he returned to meet Gaara's. "A play session."

"You what?" Shikamaru interrupted, and Neji and Itachi were the only two who didn't appear surprised.

"It was fun," Kiba said, grinning with a faint blush to his cheeks.

"Indeed," Itachi confirmed. "It was a delight to entertain your sweeter nature for an afternoon."

"He has one?" Shikamaru deadpanned. "You sure you got the right guy?" 

Kiba leapt to the side to punch his friend in the arm, playful like a boy at recess. Shikamaru laughed, rubbing the wound while Neji stood mute, tolerating the display in relaxed humor.

"Hey," Kiba said, returning to Gaara's side and wrapping both arms around his partner, hugging. "I did what I had to do, Itachi, here, didn't suffer none for it, got paid back in kind, and it  _ worked _ didn't it?"

"Beautifully," Itachi said.

"So definitely worth it." Kiba squeezed Gaara tightly, unashamed of his affection and remarkable for it.

"Yes." Gaara shook loose of Kiba and held a stiff arm and friendly hand to Itachi. "Thank you." 

The words were staccato and difficult, but the intent was sincere and clear. "You're welcome," Itachi said, and accepted Gaara's offer.

Everyone closed ranks, hugging and exchanging small talk over the clink of glass and china, but further conversation or event was truncated by the appearance of two more men in the doorway. The steward moved to stand center, and all three hired hands stomped feet in smart reports. "Dinner is served," called the steward. All three men bowed, and they moved to form a curving line out of the library, indicating direction and flow for the guests.

"Ah, good," Kiba called. "I'm starvin'!"

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ∞ Kinky story is kinky - fair warning - and there are… 22 characters from eight fandoms, I believe. ENJOY!
> 
> ∞ For the entire list of Nagato/Itachi/Soubi/various stories, references, extras, and information, [Click Here](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/49053.html).
> 
> ∞ For all information about Monoshizukanohi that you never knew you wanted to know, click [HERE](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/12226.html).
> 
> ∞ I don’t own any characters in any fandom; I just entice them into doing things they never thought possible. The originals though, if present, are all mine. I also own the world, Monoshizukanohi, and all the places therein. 
> 
> ∞ Want more? Check out my other stories here or head over to my [Demented-Ink headquarters](https://www.demented-ink.com/). And make sure to stop by [Smoke Signals](https://www.demented-ink.com/smoke-signals) and keep in touch!
> 
> Much light, more love, and many, many baked goods.  
> ♥Dee


	3. Chapter 3

Kimimaro and Haku emerged from the assembling mass to flank Itachi, each man taking an arm. Kimi was smiling sweetly and Haku was flushed prettily from drink and merriment. Itachi kissed each of his treasures in turn, and addressed the crowd: "If you'll come this way, please, we'll adjourn to the banquet hall."

In a combination masquerade march and circus parade, everyone began the trek from library to dining room. Chatter lifted to the high ceiling of the reception hall and floated through the carpeted corridors. Itachi was unaccustomed to so many people surrounding him, and while it was somewhat startling and slightly unnerving, it was also pleasant, this happiness that spilled and filled the spaces before them. Gone were the earlier nerves and minor dread, replaced by satisfaction of tasks performed to perfection. 

Of course, it also helped in no small part that as dinner grew nigh, so too did the evening's more private festivities. Itachi relived the details of his plan, the enumeration of preparation pleasing to all of his senses and every dark crevice of his mind and soul. The thoughts lifted him aloft and carried him with sure strides into the banquet hall, and the appreciative gasps and utterances further served Itachi's will.

"Welcome, one and all," Itachi said when everyone was in the room. Serving staff brought up the rear of the bunch, walking with their heads bowed, and they quickly went to their posts. "You will find placards with your names at your appointed seats."

"Very nice," Ibiki said to Itachi in passing, leading his boys toward the cherry table laid with the French china. The room itself was a combination of English Regency and Victorian gothic. The walls were red silk panels that rose to a thirty-foot arched ceiling encrusted in golden lattice trim. A fireplace in black marble stood at one end, and a mirror surrounded by cherubs and angels loomed on the opposite side. The table sat fifty without issue in plush red velvet chairs, but tonight it was laid for a spacious guest list, those absent still with place settings to be with the rest in spirit. The music coming from the house speakers was lighter, now, a harp chiming in the forefront, and Itachi took his spot at the head of the table, Kimimaro and Haku on either side. 

Chairs were drawn, linens unfurled, and like a ballet troupe at the height of their tour of stage, the serving staff appeared to begin filling goblets and plates and trays. The only disturbance, if one could call it that, occurred when Nagato rejoined the fray. He supported Soubi, who had the ragdoll lethargy and doe-eyed smile of an individual recently put through painful paces. Nagato's wardrobe had gained a sash that hung carelessly about his neck, and Soubi's scars were bare for all eyes to see. Nagato accosted a serving girl, who accepted his instruction with utmost sincerity. She rushed away while Nagato took his seat, and she returned with a thick cushion no doubt stolen from a nearby drawing room. Soubi knelt, wrapped around and rested in Nagato's lap, and Nagato wasted no time in politely demanding for special accommodations to be made for his "little one." The servants obliged, and though Nagato's attentive ways earned a few curious glances, no one dared speak to the negative. Eventually Abel pretended to recognize Nagato as though temporarily and charmingly addled. Nagato was game enough to remind Abel kindly that, yes, they'd known one another years ago, and conversation jumped from one side of the table to the other with ease.

Inexplicable triumph surged through Itachi followed by the swift click of deeply rooted satisfaction. He sat idle, hopeful, and watchful, the food coming and going without personal remark, other than noting it was extremely well prepared and presented. Kisame's teeth glittered in the light thrown from flameless candles and antique, towered, crystal chandeliers. Gaara and Sasori were handy seatmates, side-by-side without need for commentary. Ibiki, Izumo, and Neji were enjoying a rather heated debate over wine, and Shikamaru, Genma, Raidou, and Kotetsu were reliving visits to Vegas. Kiriwar seemed suited unto himself, Deidara and Gunji still chattering about every banal thing under the sun and stars. Kiba and Abel chatted, Miroku laughing loudly at Kiba's banter. After some recovery time, Soubi gingerly sat in a chair, leaning on Nagato's shoulder and listening intently to Abel, who sat opposite. Itachi bantered any time discussion flowed in his direction, but otherwise, he relaxed and observed his friends with pride and content.

"My Lord, does the scene meet you with approval?" Haku asked.

"It does, lovely boy, it does."

A clock in a nearby drawing room struck the hour, Kimimaro clasped Itachi's hand, and Itachi brought it to his mouth for a kiss to the knuckles. Haku practically danced in the seat, exquisite in the joy of a successful night thus far, but the lovely boy's face morphed into clear concern. Itachi glanced at Kimimaro, and saw the sweet man stared at a picked-over plate. Kimi's free hand held a fork, and it shook with a faint tremor. 

"Kimi?" Itachi asked, tugging Kimimaro closer. "Is there something the matter?"

"No, Master," Kimi said, and Itachi was soothed somewhat by the level notes of Kimi's voice. Observation and practice told Itachi that his boy was not ill or upset, but anxious. Itachi patted Haku's arm to say all was well, and Haku sipped water, managing to be both watchful and engaging to Kisame, who sat to Haku's right.

"Come closer, sweet boy," Itachi commanded, and Kimimaro's eyelids fluttered shut before he obeyed.

"Do you wish to stay for dessert, my love?" Itachi said sotto voce in Kimi's ear.

"I wish to  _ be _ dessert for Master, My Lord, if it is still permitted."

Itachi smiled, touched the tip of his tongue to a ring through cartilage, as Kimimaro's head blocked the view of Itachi's actions from the rest of the table. Kimimaro's sharp intake of breath was entirely worth it. "The hour has struck," Itachi murmured.

"It has, Master."

"And so shall we begin," Itachi said, flashfires of unmitigated craving exploding through his veins. It took effort to stay still, not to tremble before the awe-inspiring enthusiasm his sweet boy had for the games Itachi loved to play.  _ Lived _ to play, in truth, because they were made grander, vital, and magnificent by Kimimaro and Haku's involvement. 

"You are to go to the bathroom adjacent to the ballroom where tonight's performance will take place," Itachi instructed. "You will remove your clothing, kneel, and edge yourself until my arrival." Kimimaro gasped and Haku laughed at the precise second to cover the sound. And though Itachi admired Haku's attentions, he didn't hold illusions that the rest of the table was oblivious to the sort of conversation he was having with Kimimaro. Such knowledge didn’t trouble Itachi in the slightest; let the guests wonder how the evening would unfold. Let them ponder and find excitement in the mystery, let them hope that somehow they would be a part of what Itachi had planned for Kimimaro.

For the reality would still stun them all, make them whisper for months to come, though not a hand nor a finger but his own would touch either of Itachi's precious men. His affair with his sweet, servile boy would be his alone, and the permissive coveting drove the starving beast of control wild within Itachi's breast.

"You will find no relief, only the hope for it," Itachi said.

"Yes, Master."

"Very good, sweet boy. You are excused to the service of your Lord and Master."

Kimimaro whimpered but withdrew. He took a moment to gather himself, swallowing thickly and glancing at the chatting guests, most of whom feigned indifference to what was going on at the head of the table. Gaara openly stared, however, as did Kiba and Nagato, the latter drinking deeply from a cup and smirking at Itachi, raising the glass in salute. Deidara cackled, and Kiriwar bellowed for more wine like a Viking calling for mead. Haku distracted Kisame, and Raidou, who sat next to Kimimaro, appeared concerned for Itachi's boy. Raidou said something that Itachi couldn't hear, and Kimimaro reassured his friend with a wave of palm and sincere smile.

At last Kimimaro stood, arousal obvious in the glimpse Itachi had before Kimimaro left the room. "Where's he off to?" Raidou asked, though he evidently quickly thought better of the question, the regret of the asking plain on Rai's beautifully scarred face.

"There are preparations to be made for the evening's entertainment," Itachi replied, waving away a plate and finishing his wine. He stood, and everyone went silent and speculative. He addressed the table while holding a hand to Haku, who took it and stood primly to Itachi's right. "Preparations, I fear, that my lovely Haku and I must both attend, in order to seal this evening's show with perfection. I invite you to finish the course, enjoy your drinks, and the staff will escort you to the ballroom in due time."

"No hints for the after party, eh, Itachi?" Kisame asked.

"No," Itachi answered, tucking Haku's arm through his when the servants had cleared chairs from Itachi and Haku's path. "Though I know it will please. I realize some of you cannot linger after dinner, and I beg your forgiveness that I will not be present to bid you good night individually. Let me say here and now that I've enjoyed every second of our moments together, tonight, and wish you a safe and gratifying time until we meet again."

Speech concluded, Itachi led Haku away from the table erupting with applause and conversation, and he didn't stop until they were safely in the hallway. He swung Haku around and into a tight embrace, bending to claim Haku's lips and tongue with his own. He cupped and caressed Haku's face and neck, reveling in the wistful sighs and tiny moans coming from his ephemeral  _ belle _ . 

"Merek is assisting you in my absence?" Itachi asked, feeding his urge to claim without touching any place that might give his boy true satisfaction.

"He is, My Lord," Haku whispered, fisting Itachi's jacket and stilling the involuntary roll of his hips. 

"Very good, lovely boy. My impatience to witness your entrance and partake of your talents grows by the second."

Haku's eyes were smoldering coals. "As does my longing to show our gathered friends how any and all of my person and education belong solely to My Lord's loving estate and serve only with the hope to please and further My Lord's esteem."

Itachi chuckled. "Your enthusiasm and vanity please me, as does your refined tongue."

"A refinement that would be humbled by any chance to attend and increase your happiness, My Lord." 

"Later, boy," Itachi promised with a last lingering kiss and gentle, if reluctant, release. "Off you go, now." 

Haku swept a performer's bow. "To improve my condition to be more richly deserving of your sight, My Lord."

Itachi inclined his chin and waved one hand, wildly in love with his boy and their game. "Increasing your beauty would be impossible, lovely boy, too close to the divine as it is, but I cannot wait to see your choices to articulate its edges and depths with your clever devices."

Haku positively glowed, rising and pivoting with a skip in step. Itachi waited until Haku was out of sight around the corner, sighed wistfully, and made haste through the maze of his home to return to the library. He retrieved his hat and cane, ducked through a side door, and strode across marble, tile, and rug until he reached a closed double gate guarded by servants. They smartened their stances with Itachi's arrival, but he ignored them into passivity, continuing past the ballroom set up for the party and into a narrow hall lit by sconces. He paused in front of the bathroom door, its wooden latch poised in his palm. It would be unlocked, the fear of being caught adding to the suspense, but at the last second, Itachi chose to step away. He calculated how many minutes it'd been since Kimimaro's departure, guessing at the time and silently reciting the schedule the serving staff knew to keep in order to manage the events of the night. 

"Not yet," Itachi muttered, shaking himself to relieve tension and to let go of the fierce apprehension that lit his nervous system. He passed moments envisioning his boy on the other side of the wall, stroking in accordance to Itachi's demands and waiting for Itachi to appear. 

The vision and current arrangements reminded him so much of that first night at Club Break. He'd been almost sick with nerves and eagerness, biding time with Kakashi until Kimimaro had arrived and been made ready. Hatake had been most sympathetic, seemingly put at ease by Itachi's pasty complexion and unending pacing, satisfied that Itachi's concern was sincere with such real evidence of the fear of failure. 

Itachi had explained to Kakashi that the fortune and turn of tides still seemed a dream. He'd thought Kimimaro beautiful and perfect since he'd first laid eyes on Orochimaru's boy. When he thought there was a chance in hell of interacting with the brave man who had escaped a bad situation, Itachi hadn't cared in the slightest what he may have to do in order to gain the opportunity. Kiba's plot had been fortunate, a bit of karmic reward for dues paid. He'd spent days putting together his fantasy proposal for himself and for the sweet, sincere man employed by the most powerful foursome in the city. And he wasn’t ashamed to admit to tears when Neji had called him with the mind-blowing news of acceptance. Too much to hope for, too much to want, and Itachi had lived and died in the need to show Kimimaro a scene to undo them both, but with true affection and gentleness at the reigns, not cruelty. It was a desire that had increased tenfold in the light of what he'd gleamed from Neji about Kimimaro and Kimi's unnamed "roommate", and even now, standing where he was and about to embark on another pleasure journey with his sweet Kimi, it seemed surreal that such courage and spirit would ever crave Itachi's hand in any capacity, much less in one that gave Itachi such peace.

Quite suddenly, Itachi was without the wherewithal to stay outside any longer. He grasped the handle, shoved into the room, and a mournful, soft cry stirred him into a fever pitch. Itachi firmly shut the door, locking it. A claw tub stood to his left, the latched door beyond leading into the ballroom. A pedestal sink was before him, oval mirror hung above it. The antique, chain-flush toilet was in a closet with a narrow door, and in front of it was a leather lounge with swooping half-back, single roll cushion at the head. Spread over the gleaming tile before the lounge was a fur rug, and on the rug knelt Itachi's boy. 

Kimi was nude as requested, gems and metal gleaming and catching the low light. His knees were spread wider than most men could manage, Kimimaro's contortionist skeleton and musculature forevermore fascinating and functional. His cock was straining beneath the workings of his fist, and Itachi got lost in the movement of skin around the ladder and the bolts piercing the flesh. Kimimaro's balls were also similarly adorned, and drawn tightly against his body. While Itachi watched, Kimi threw back his head, exposing lean lines of throat, and cried out. He let go of himself, clawing at his thighs while his dick twitched enticingly, the reddened head and shaft slick with pre-come.

"You are a sight to behold, my obedient, beloved boy," Itachi said, dropping his hat carelessly to the ground and leaning his cane next to the sink. He cupped himself through his slacks, walking and stroking in the spotlight of Kimimaro's riveted attention, but he let go to slide hands into Kimimaro's hair and encourage Kimi to lean against him. "So perfect in your easy beauty, Kimimaro, so intoxicating in your ability to please."

"Thank you, Master," Kimimaro whispered, bending to Itachi's will like a supple sapling. His breathing was labored and his shoulders rocked in a shiver. He nuzzled Itachi's hip, but didn't turn to mouth Itachi's erection. He clasped Itachi's calves, but loosely, merely a sign of affection and quest for grounding. No more and no less than Itachi asked, but always impressive in the little surprises that made their time together so precious.

"Rise and go to the sink, sweet boy," Itachi said after a moment of comfort. "Face and grip it with your feet shoulder-distance apart."

"Yes, Master." Kimimaro spoke on autopilot, climbing to his feet, and Itachi went to an ornate, short cabinet next to the sink that held hand towels for guests. 

Withdrawing a key from his pocket, Itachi knelt and unlocked the cupboard and retrieved a box that he'd placed there some days ago. He set it on top of the towels, unlocking it with a different, smaller key, and putting the ring back into his jacket when he was done with it. Itachi stepped behind Kimimaro, and he sighed when Kimi pushed into Itachi, craving the touch that Itachi was happy to give. He traced forearms, biceps, shoulders, and abdomen, and he kissed an offered neck with reverence.

"Sweet boy, look at me." Kimi did as Itachi asked, the blatant honesty and simple love in his green eyes so pure it would wring water from stone. "For tonight, you must make use of safewords should you wish something to stop. A simple no or cry to slow will not suffice to still my actions. Do you understand and agree to this?"

Kimimaro licked his lips, chest rising and falling faster and skin flushing in faint pink desire. "Yes, Master. I do."

Itachi saw his mouth move in a flicker of a smile, and he channeled confidence and command to mold his features. "Very good." Itachi tucked hair behind Kimi's ear and sighed through his nose, as though slightly regretful of what he was about to say. The artifice worked beautifully to infuse Kimimaro's body with tension. "I'm afraid, my love, that I'm not going to be easy on you."

Kimi trembled, fingertips going white against the porcelain, and the reaction was perfection, itself. "I live to serve Master's wishes and whims, whatever they may require of me."

Itachi hummed, pleased, and wrapped an arm around Kimimaro. He kissed Kimi's cheek, caught an earlobe and accompanying jewelry with his teeth, and opened the box's lid with his free hand. Kimimaro tripped a quiet whine at the sight of what was within, and Itachi hugged Kimimaro all the tighter when Kimimaro had to struggle not to let go of the sink, not to shrink away from toys that made better sense panic but made Kimi's cock throb with enough force to dribble moisture. 

"I know, sweet boy, I know." Itachi rocked Kimimaro in a gentle sway. "I ask much of you, but it's because my need to have you dependent upon me and lost in my arms is too great, this night, my Kimi." 

Kimimaro nodded, and Itachi petted Kimi until he began to unwind. Itachi knew that Kimimaro wanted nothing in the world more than to be held safely in Itachi's control. Kimi loved to hurt and ached to be kept. 

However, Kimimaro could languish for hours, days, or weeks in the space where there was still plenty of conscious thought as to what Itachi wanted and more than enough awareness to worry about it. Kimimaro didn't plunge like Haku into the furthest reaches of submission that could be found, but stayed, deliberately or not, in a more comfortable space wherein Kimi absolutely thrived but didn't come undone. Itachi wanted Kimimaro deeper than that for this session. He wanted Kimimaro unmade to the point where there was only need and exactly one person to meet it. 

Itachi didn't require that of Kimi often, as the recovery on the other side was lengthy, but Itachi also knew it was such intense rounds that proved to Kimi more than anything else how much Itachi adored, wanted, and needed his sweetest boy. Dominance was always a balance of limits, and if Itachi didn't test the extremes of Kimimaro's borders, Kimi tended to wander into self-doubt. Such musings were entirely unacceptable, and so Itachi kept his metaphoric fingers to the pulse of Kimi's needs all the time. He did that for both his boys and also for himself. Itachi wanted his men independent and with choices, always; he had no interest in mindless slaves without a voice or in restless submissives without opinions. 

But Itachi would be lying if he said having either or both his men thoroughly under the spell of safety and power he could cast didn't complete him and bring about a type of contentment that could only be forged and founded in absolute rule.

When Kimimaro's breathing had slowed and the tension somewhat drained, Itachi picked up Kimimaro's most hated anal toy and pressed it to Kimi's chest so Kimimaro could stare at it in the mirror. The heavy, metal plug resting against Kimi's sternum was based on the medieval torture device known as the Egg of Anguish. A medium-sized, tapered oval was at one end, a cranking wheel at the other, and the latter was held in place by a perpendicular metal bar and kept there by a padlock if one wished. There were four notches for the wheel, and as one slowly turned the device to higher settings, the oval bloomed like a sadistic flower. Itachi had used the thing himself before ever attempting it on his boys, and it created a fascinating  _ open _ feeling well in one's depths. Not pleasant, not necessarily painful, but entirely vulnerable-making and inescapable. The toy, once inserted and cranked to the first notch, did not dislodge easily. It was carefully designed to keep pressure on the prostate that would not cause damage to the gland, and this version of the Egg, unlike its ancestor, would not rip delicate linings or force the sphincter beyond repair. The petals' edges were smooth and thickened for safety, and the maximum range was still within the limits of sane. It was, in fact, smaller than some of the beads Itachi had required Kimimaro's body to take.

Kimimaro said he didn't care for the sensation the toy created, but judging by how fast Kimi had fallen to floating the single time they'd used it on him, Itachi suspected the sweet boy didn't like what the device did to his semblances of control. Kimimaro had a blind spot when it came to play, as he would say with utmost sincere honesty that he did not ever wish to resist submerging into the bliss abyss. Itachi knew that to be true, but Itachi could see the shadows Kimimaro didn't know loomed behind him. Kimimaro preferred to serve, and service required some cognitive function. The egg was not the only piece of equipment that could make Kimimaro lose his mind, but it was one of the more effective on a short list.

Itachi caressed Kimimaro's torso with lazy trails of the metal egg, and knew he'd made the right decision on how to start their session when Kimi's respiration slowed to resemble slumber and the beautiful being in Itachi's arms began to shudder. "You will take this for me, sweet boy, and much more tonight, unless you cry safeword."

"Yes, Master," Kimimaro murmured, and he tipped his head back to rest on Itachi's shoulder. 

Itachi trailed faint fingertips over Kimi's Adams' Apple, and kissed Kimi's throat, suckling briefly at the pulse. "What did I tell you of the time you will spend witnessing this evening's performance, my Kimi?"

"That..." Kimimaro swallowed, lips parting when Itachi found the metal bars spearing one nipple and teased them to tug at the budded skin. "That I would not sit in comfort, Master."

"And what do I always do, my delectable boy?"

"Keep your promises, Mas- _ ter _ ." The final syllable was a stuttered utterance, and Itachi continued to swirl his index finger around the swollen crown of Kimimaro's cock, pushing at the bars that speared it.

"Good," Itachi ground into Kimimaro, let the boy feel what his acquiescence inspired. "Look at me."

Itachi waited until a summer green gaze drowning in a sea of darkness met Itachi in the mirror. He had to kiss Kimimaro's neck and cheek, dip into his boy's slit, before he could continue, else he try to speak and nothing but a moan emerge at the sight of his sweetest lover so trusting. "It will go as thus," Itachi droned, slightly louder to rise above the white noise he knew would be whirring in Kimi's ears. "You will hold on to the sink, stand as I dictate, and I will slide the egg into your ass and crank it once. When that is done, you will edge yourself to the point of orgasm and stop." Itachi smiled against Kimi's jaw while Kimimaro stuttered a cry, and the faint prickles of stubble and the smell of musk aroused Itachi further. 

"Mmm... and when that is done, I will light up your skin with pain until I'm satisfied." Itachi squeezed the front of Kimi's throat and relinquished it to grip Kimi's chin, the pressure just this side of violent. Itachi tasted Kimi's gasp like fine wine, rolling it on his tongue. "Am I clear?"

"Yes, Master." Kimi was breathy, hard, shivering, and his eyelashes fluttered. 

Itachi reveled in the clear signs of approval before he chose to continue, softer, now, and with images of Kimimaro dancing in agony filling his mind and threatening to dislodge all sense of order and propriety. "There is but one requirement, my sweet. During your suffering and during your pleasure you are to make not a single sound."

Kimimaro's eyes widened, the panic clear. "Master?"

"And if you do, sweet boy," Itachi said, overriding Kimi with volume and unyielding grip. "You will earn another crank, another edging, and another turn beneath my swinging arm."

"Oh God," Kimi whispered, biting at the metal stabbing his lips, but his hips rolled. "Oooh God... Master...  _ yes _ ..."

Itachi's slow breath was shaky. "And I fear, beloved boy, that any sound at all will force me to fill you for the duration of the performance." Kimimaro twisted, groaning, and Itachi cooed a soothing noise, maintaining his physical trap and letting Kimimaro feel its unwavering resolve. "But don't fear, my sweet. I have limits to the cruelty I can inflict on one so treasured. Three cranks after the first are all you may earn, as I will not push you past the abilities of the device." 

Kimimaro's head lolled back and forth on Itachi's shoulder, heaven on earth in Itachi's grasp. "Yes, Master, thank you, Master, oh sweet  _ Christ _ , Master..."

"Good." Itachi eased his hand and busied himself nibbling the rim of Kimimaro's ear for a long moment, coating his own willpower in concrete despite an erection that was staining his silk shorts and screeching to be buried in a tight, hot hole immediately if not sooner.

"M-Master?" Kimi whispered.

"Yes?"

Kimimaro placed the lightest of kisses just behind the hinge of Itachi's jaw. Itachi tilted, giving his boy room and cupping the back of Kimi's head in encouragement and to show such affection was completely allowed. "Later, My Lord, will there be... more?"

The relief that swept through Itachi upon hearing the question nudged a groan from Itachi's throat. Not only was Kimimaro accepting of the impending events, he was already daydreaming about what was to come. "Yes," Itachi replied, bending to Kimimaro's mouth and taking it without mercy. "There will be another encounter in our chambers, sweet boy."

"With... with my brother in submission in attendance, Master?"

"In attendance and in participation."

Kimi panted against Itachi's lips, nodding, and undulated, earning nothing but the drag of smooth, chilly sink along the underside of his dick. "Thank you, Master, for allowing me to serve."

Itachi rumbled a gentle laugh of admiration, and heard a sound that he identified as the doors to the ballroom opening in preparation for the guests' arrival. The reminder that time was of the essence inspired focus. "You are welcome, my sweet. When we begin, you may answer direct questions, you may breathe as your excitement or pain dictate, but so much as a tone to the breath will trigger a round." 

"In delight, I live to serve, Master," Kimimaro mumbled with practiced but heartfelt respect.

Itachi released Kimi, took up a tube of lube from the box, and coated the egg liberally. "Please spread your feet, hands on the sink's sides, and present yourself." Kimimaro's head dipped forward, the rest of Kimi's sleek body moving into position without comment. He arched his back, flattening the lower portion, and he kept his legs straight while bending just slightly. 

Kimi's grace could shame the entire Russian ballet, and Itachi sighed in pleasure. He dropped kisses to Kimi's shoulders and nape. "My Kimi, my love for you is endless."

"And mine is twofold to eternity, Master," Kimi whispered.

"My sweet boy." Itachi lined up the oval to Kimi's entrance. "Your time of silence begins now." He hummed at the clack of Kimi's teeth, and Itachi teased the flexing ring with nudges of the toy and circling smears of slick until the urge to see Kimi's ass suck the plug within was too great. He pushed the egg inside, glancing to watch Kimi's expression to judge the speed. Kimimaro's eyes were shut, brow fixed in firm concentration, and there was no betrayed discomfort until the metal guard that kept the wheel protected from penetration and the toy from sinking too deeply touched Kimi's cheeks. Lips mashing together and shoulders inching higher, Kimi stayed silent, waiting. 

Itachi didn't draw out the torture. He steadied the egg by the flange and removed the rod from its neutral holding position. With a single finger, he spun the prong of the wheel, the motion seamless but with telling resistance as Kimi stretched, and Kimimaro jerked, grappling the sink. 

"Perfectly done, my sweet," Itachi praised, locking the notch and letting go. The device didn't move, and Itachi wiped his hands on a towel before stroking Kimi's flanks. "Now walk your feet together."

The command almost earned a sound -- Kimimaro trapped it just in time and tensed in response, instead. He obeyed, though at a crawl, and Itachi didn't rush him, knowing exactly how the position would increase the pressure and not allow one to forget for a second that one's ass was stuffed and caught.

"Yes," Itachi said, a hissing sigh, "so good for me, sweet boy." He knelt, kneading Kimimaro's thighs and the globes of Kimi's ass in a firm massage for a full count of two minutes. He licked to suck a mark, and Kimimaro withstood the pleasure with hitching rasps that were barely within the range of allowance. "Mmm, yes..." Itachi sighed around his truncated noises of need. It was always the flesh and structure of men that Itachi craved, never women. He liked a man's brand of supple softness, a slight give over heavy muscle, velvet scruff overlaying a playground built to endure. Itachi didn't smack or do anything to startle Kimi, but he did grip, squeeze, and rub, urging the skin to warm and awaken before standing and pressing himself along the length of Kimimaro's back, still petting what he could reach. "Answer in one word: how many days since completion?"

"Three." The syllable was explosive, and the effort Kimimaro took to manage oxygen thrilled Itachi. 

Tangling a hand in Kimi's hair, Itachi pulled just the way his sweet boy enjoyed while the other hand kept up the friction on Kimi's skin. "Again in a word: have you enjoyed my preparations to make this night a protracted provocation?"

"Yes." The affirmative was a low groan, and it plucked the strings of Itachi's arousal like a harpist to instrument.

Itachi snapped his gaze to fix on Kimi's, and his lips tilted in a smirk. "Would orgasm delight you, my sweet?"

Kimimaro's jaw went slack, and he nodded as much as allowed with Itachi's grip and weight. Itachi wrapped an arm around Kimi's middle. "Then you will show me your need. Hand on your cock, stroke as you will, eyes on me." Itachi abruptly turned to rasp harshly against Kimi's temple, teeth flashing in the reflection. "And do  _ not _ come. Begin."

The slip-slap of skin being tugged for maximum friction filled the air, and Itachi showed evidence of his approval with grinding hips, rhythmic yanks to Kimi's hair, tiny groans, and whispers of encouragement and compliment. "Faster, sweet boy. I wish to see your craving...  _ mmm _ ... yes, Kimi,  _ yes _ ..." Itachi manipulated the piercings of both Kimi's nipples, savoring the straining tendons along Kimi's throat. In mere seconds it was over, Kimimaro stopping and slamming palms to the sink's rim. There was no sound but staggering breath, and Itachi kissed Kimi's cheek.

"Swipe the head of your cock so I may taste your denial." The command brought about a widening mouth and a full-form sway, but Kimimaro wet one finger and raised it to Itachi's lips without breaking the rules. Itachi sampled the evidence with a thoroughly obscene smack. The sip of his sweet would tide him over until the later feast. "Good boy. And now the pain."

Swiftly, Itachi let go, Kimi's hair falling into a mesmerizing curtain. Itachi drew away and snatched up his cane. He twisted the snake's head, unscrewing it, and a thinner cane emerged, this one made not of antique wood like the main shaft, but of newer, flexible, fiberglass. It was thin, whippy, and had been used innumerable times to make his treasures squirm, beg, and weep in masochistic joy. He said nothing as he reset, resting the length of the shaft across both Kimi's thighs, just under the swell of cheeks. Beyond the bathroom, Itachi heard guests beginning to fill the ballroom. They would settle, finish dessert and drinks, but the thrum of urgency intertwined with carnality, and Itachi took his stance.

Kimimaro braced without being asked, and Itachi was grateful for the mirror, which still showed Kimi's expression though the sweet man's head was bent. Itachi flexed his wrist and began a series of soft strikes that wouldn't mark or land with anything like full force. Kimi took them in obvious pleasure, and Itachi uttered sincere praise at Kimi's abilities in an unending murmur. He moved up and down Kimi's legs, swatted Kimi's ass, and got lost in the rhythm of repetition. 

After several passes, Itachi gradually added more momentum, monitoring Kimi closely and holding steady with the impact when Kimi began to flinch, to gasp, to strain in the taking. Kimimaro's pale skin showed the stain of pain beautifully, and when Itachi was satisfied that Kimi could take more, he began cracking the cane in sharp, descending, horizontal flicks that struck both thighs. The swish and whack was hypnotic and continual in the small room. Itachi held back, however, keeping the swing to quarter and half impact for two reasons: it didn't take much to strike true with this cane, and he thought his sweet boy would want more than a single round. His caution was rewarded after the tenth hit: Kimimaro cried out in a meager, high gasp.

Itachi didn't reprimand or comfort, though his veins sang with delirious triumph. He'd been right, and he'd crafted well. He was with his boy, governing with rules and impact, and the rapture of the moment was almost an agony. Itachi tucked the cane under an arm, swept around to Kimimaro's presented backside, and clasped the plug's wheel. Kimi's fingers slipped on the sink, the protesting friction the only other sound aside from heavy rasps and the clink of metal. Itachi removed the pin holding the wheel and spun. It took effort this time, and the flex of musculature before him was heavenly. He barely got the toy locked again when Kimimaro's knees shook, and Itachi hugged Kimi's torso with both arms. "Pleasure yourself, my brave boy."

In a hectic, jerking scramble, Kimimaro grasped his erection and stroked. The effort to stay silent was clear in every drop of sweat, every tensioning twitch of jaw, and in the violent shake of his head. Itachi watched in humble adoration as Kimi got lost in the battle to obey, and in the fight, Kimi relaxed the grip on reality, withdrew from circumstance because there was no room for anything except the war. Itachi smoothed Kimi's hair, and in a fraction of a moment, Kimi ran headlong into the wall of denial, face crumpling and mouth opening in a soundless wail of frustration.

"Perfection," Itachi whispered, repeating the word over and over to make sure Kimimaro heard it. Kimi curled over the sink, hands and forearms resting upon it, and Itachi put weight on Kimimaro's back before starting again with the cane. Welts began to blossom, Kimi jumped with each collision, and Itachi slowed his swings. He thought this may well be enough, and he drew upon experience, listening to Kimi's frantic sighs and broken inhalations. Two rounds was plenty for Itachi to make good on his word; more than enough to satisfy Itachi's sadism for the moment. In his mind, he reformed his assessment of Kimimaro's state, made mental notes and adjustments to plans, and precisely as he lifted the cane to strike the final lash -- just as Itachi opened his mouth to inform Kimi that this stage of the game was complete -- Kimimaro moaned, the rise and fall unmistakable and wet with need.

"Oh," Itachi said, the intimation of emotion escaping his lips without his permission. He took necessary seconds to get control of himself, the room whirling with Itachi's rise in blood pressure and the dump of adrenalin. He didn't trust himself to say actual words, so he filled in with low groans and messy kisses along Kimimaro's spine. Salt made saliva pool, he was too warm in his clothing, but at that moment, Itachi could be hung upside down and crucified without complaint, so little did his own discomfort matter. 

"My precious, divine boy, prepare yourself." Itachi tucked away the cane and got his hands on the wheel, undoing the pin. "Going to turn now. Silence, my sweet, you can do this." Itachi spun with terrific slowness, and Kimimaro bucked, forcing Itachi to stop, shush his lover, and start again. "I know, Kimimaro, almost there. Take it for me, my sweet." Kimimaro's head was in the sink, shoulders heaving and the blades making knobby wings. Itachi saw the third notch and slipped the pin home. "Done." He rubbed slow circles on Kimimaro's lower back, and Kimi arched into the caress in a steady roil. Itachi encouraged Kimi more upright, covered Kimi's hand on the sink, and squeezed.

"Can you endure strokes in my name?" Itachi asked, and Kimi's dazed eyes found Itachi's in the mirror. They were dim, fearful, desperate. "Ah, there's my boy." Itachi pressed a thumb to Kimi's bottom lip, pulled it down in warning, and slipped the digit into Kimi's mouth, gripping behind Kimi's bottom teeth. Labored breaths grew positively tormented, and Kimi's sight grew distant. "Just three yanks to your dick, sweet boy, balls to crown so I can feel you shake for me." Kimi's head flew in a soundless no, and Itachi found the ability to be firmer for Kimi's sake. "You can. You  _ will _ . Now, boy." 

The porcelain screeched under Kimi's palm. Itachi held Kimimaro close, heart hammering and waves of protective instinct, feral hunger, and steely resolve bathing his guts in fire and ice. Kimi paused, balanced, grasped himself and tugged a long, masturbatory pull along his angry cock.

"Again," Itachi ordered, and Kimi's soundless hiss blew hot around Itachi's thumb. Kimimaro obeyed, and Kimi's cock pulsed, dangerously close.

"Wait." Together they breathed, and Kimi's lips closed around Itachi's finger, tongue licking in heated suction. "Again, Kimi," Itachi dictated. Kimi stroked, arched like a live wire, and then wilted into Itachi's hold. 

"Beautiful," Itachi praised, again repeating the word over and over. The tone and the inflection would make his point, even if Kimimaro couldn't translate the speech. Itachi stayed where he was, half supporting and half leaning, and rested the cane to Kimimaro's thigh. Kimi's face darkened in defeat and anguish, and Itachi rocked his lover. "One, sweet boy. Just one for me." Itachi didn't give quarter, striking like a viper, the impact echoing. Kimi's eyes flew impossibly wide, and Itachi dropped the cane and cradled Kimimaro.

"Rest, my sweet love, rest." Itachi didn't negate any of his rules, choosing instead to let Kimimaro cling to them. He knew the sink was an anchor, the silence the path to pleasing Master, and Itachi's presence was solace and confirmation that Kimimaro was doing what Master wished. Itachi closed his eyes, buried his face in Kimimaro's neck and hair, and waited for the overwhelming crescendo to calm and the ratcheting tension to plateau. 

When Kimi's minute physical tells proved to Itachi that his boy was capable of movement and comprehension, Itachi prepared to shift. "To the floor with my help, sweet boy. Kneel wide for me." 

Mutely, Kimimaro nodded, pushing up and letting Itachi help him to the ground. He sat in a split, inner thighs corded with malleable muscle, and he threw his head back when the heel of the egg touched the rug beneath him. 

"Adjust so you're not resting on the plug," Itachi directed, supporting Kimi beneath the arms while the sweet man reconfigured position, flexing his feet to make it possible. "Good, very good," Itachi murmured. "Hands on me for balance." Again, Kimi nodded, but he was fixated on Itachi's groin, hot breath hitting Itachi's zipper. "Yes, sweet boy," Itachi said, undoing fly with one hand, the other on Kimi's shoulder to steady him. "You'll get what you want." 

The air along his shaft made Itachi stifle a curse that might have alarmed the guests next door. He could hear the clink of glass, the burbles of laughter, the continual stream of chatter. He stroked himself, thumb over the head, and Kimimaro panted with unabashed and unashamed appetite. "Oooh, sweet boy..." Itachi said with unchecked avarice. "Suck me."

Kimimaro's eyes rolled, lashes damp and fluttering, and Itachi was unforgiving with the initial thrust, stopping any sound by driving into Kimi's throat. Kimimaro scrabbled at Itachi's legs, pushed beneath the jacket, and crooked fingers over Itachi's waistband. He gagged on Itachi's dick, coughing and wheezing when Itachi withdrew. Kimi didn't struggle or fight, merely tipped to make angles work and enveloped Itachi with a blend of suction, tongue work, and rhythm that should be illegal, else it drive recipients to straight jackets. 

"Close, sweet boy," Itachi warned, yanking on Kimi's hair, dying at the excellence of the shudder the phrase inspired and at the sight of himself spearing his Kimi's lips with measured brutality. "You have me...  _ nnngod _ ... close...  _ nnnfuck _ ..." Itachi snarled, Kimimaro clung to him tighter, and Itachi kept release at bay with the crazed need to invoke his rule over his boy. "Jerk off. No coming.  _ Now _ ." 

Hand met cock and Kimimaro was utterly compliant to the direction of Itachi's hold, surrendering to the face fuck with abandon. " _ Mmmm... godyess... _ " Itachi hissed at the sight of Kimimaro stroking, stopping, fisting fingers, and continuing. Kimimaro's dick was soaked in a sheen of fluid, purple-red-throbbing in color, and Kimi's obedience and give were Itachi's unmaking. With a garbled, muffled slur, Itachi sank deep, held, and poured into Kimimaro's constricting, panicking throat. He didn't relent until Kimimaro's forehead wrinkled in a telling frown of pain and suffocation, pulling out to a chorus of tremulous, breathy cries that Kimimaro clearly couldn't help. Ferocious, possessive, love ripped into Itachi with shredding claws, and he fell to his knees. He displaced Kimi's fumbling hand and wrapped it around his waist instead. Kimi burrowed into him, taking refuge.

An instant later, though, Kimimaro realized the error of his vocalizations, and Itachi was there to hold him in the ensuing panic. "Master, I'm sorry... I-I... just--" 

"Shh, my sweet, be still, I'm here."

Kimimaro twisted, a sob escaping, and for a split second, Itachi lamented that the insanity had somehow not been enough; that Kimimaro still had thought to fret over right, wrong, rules or offense. The towering wall of terror and disappointment in himself threatened to topple, stealing Itachi's breath.

" _ Need _ ." Kimimaro called in an explosion of air released from laboring lungs. "Can't... have to... to... oh God, Master, can't... I..." Kimimaro babbled, quickly degenerating into whines and whimpers, fingers seeking purchase and clutching at Itachi's clothing. 

Itachi slumped and sighed in rich relief. "And you will, sweet boy. To the bench, now. Crawl." Itachi kept the demands short and sweet so Kimimaro would hear them. He fumbled to help when Kimimaro spun and made for the lounge, far, far steadier on all fours than would be possible standing. Itachi followed behind Kimi, struggling to stand and flailing to assist Kimimaro to lie down.

"Please, Master... mercy... mercy..." Kimimaro trilled in a high rasp.

"On your back, sweet boy --  _ carefully _ ." Itachi's call for caution got through, and he made haste to straddle the bench, bending Kimimaro's knees and resting Kimi's feet on Itachi's thighs. Kimi was a gorgeous mess of pleas, tautness, tears, and seeking hips, and Itachi's eyes burned at the sight.

"Hands over your head," Itachi ordered, loudly, and Kimimaro complied. Twin thumps of impact resounded with the force of Kimimaro's grip, and his back arched, bobbing cock finding nothing but air. He cried out, uninhibited, and Itachi settled him, palms over hipbones. 

"Take it out...  _ out _ Ita-... Master... too much... gotta...  _ mmmph _ ..." Kimimaro bit his lip, and went stark still when Itachi grasped the end of the plug, merely holding it without pressure.

"Not yet, sweet boy. First this." Itachi bent to Kimimaro and covered Kimi's cock with one long suck. Kimimaro's wail fractured in the middle, and instantly he was pulsing, practically overflowing Itachi's mouth in thick, richly bitter release. Itachi swallowed over and over, wrestling Kimimaro stationary to elongate the orgasm, to force another spurt to coat Itachi's tongue. Every swell drained Kimimaro of fight, every lick wrung a cry, and ultimately he collapsed beneath Itachi's attentions, low moans continuous and tears freely flowing.

"There," Itachi said, kissing Kimimaro's length over one of the ladder bars. "Exactly as I want you, my Kimi." Itachi sat up and undid the lock on the plug. Kimimaro shook while Itachi unwound the egg, notes coloring each breath with dismay and longing. Itachi withdrew the toy to a deep shudder and another wave of tears, and he deposited Kimimaro's feet on the lounge's upholstery. 

"You need do nothing but feel, my sweet," Itachi said, rising and feathering kisses to Kimi's face and chest. He wiped away some of the tears, stroked Kimi's reddened cheek, and remained long enough to register that Kimimaro was soaring somewhere else, unburdened by tangible geography. 

"Fetching the box, sweet boy," Itachi said, speaking to soothe and let Kimimaro know he wasn't going anywhere. "I wish to clean you up and prepare you." Itachi rinsed the plug, bagged the egg to be autoclaved later, and put it back into the container. He returned to Kimimaro with the rest of the toys he needed, along with towels, deodorant, and cool wipes. 

"Adore you," Itachi whispered, setting about the task of bathing Kimi and keeping his lover warm with towels and praise. Itachi minded pressure, kept his touch purposeful but tender. When every inch of skin had been rinsed and Kimimaro rested beneath soft terrycloth, Itachi swiped Kimimaro's underarms with the pleasant and familiar scent stick, and kissed Kimimaro's mouth until it responded in kind. Itachi unclasped Kimi's death grip on the lounge and tucked elbows and hands under the towels, still kissing with unhurried, lingering presses of his lips.

"I'm going to cage and fill you, now, my sweet boy." Itachi resumed his place on the bench, flipping back the makeshift covers to gain access to Kimi's lower half. 

"Okay," Kimimaro whispered, yielding.

"Very good," Itachi nearly purred. He snatched the cock cage that they'd commissioned created to work around Kimimaro's metal. It cinched around the base of balls and penis like other cages, but had thinner bars along the shaft, more ventilation, and could be held in place by the bolts of Kimi's magic cross, if Itachi desired. 

Tonight, Itachi settled to secure the cage around the piercings, knowing it would not be needed for the duration of the evening, merely for the next round of their game. Kimi's cock was limp and easy to manipulate into the chastity device, and in less than a minute the task was complete. 

"Master?" Kimimaro asked, nearly inaudible.

"Yes, my Kimi?" 

"Are you... must I..." Kimi hugged himself tightly, and the naked vulnerability in his downward gaze tried to slay Itachi in overheated blood. "The... not the egg?"

"It's gone, my brave man," Itachi comforted, and murmured in kindness at Kimi's gusting sigh. "I've something far gentler in mind for you."

Itachi picked up a narrow bullet vibrator with trailing cord. It was remotely controlled, easy for Kimimaro to manage, and Kimimaro's quiet grunt of relieved affirmation told Itachi he'd again chosen wisely. He slicked the toy with lube. "Here it comes," he warned, and lust stirred despite recent culmination, as Kimi's body took the plug. Itachi sank it to appropriate depth, wiped his hands clean on a towel, and put the remote in his pocket. "You are delight incarnate, my sweet boy." 

Leaving Kimimaro to languish for a moment, Itachi stood and cleaned himself, face and hands. He smoothed his hair, adjusted his clothing, and put the box and soiled towels into cabinet and hamper. 

When he was done, Itachi joined Kimimaro on the lounge, lifting Kimi's legs and scooting close. He rested against the lounge's half-back, and drew Kimimaro into his lap and onto his chest. Kimi came to him with an eager, grateful noise, nuzzling and wrapping an arm around Itachi's shoulder and neck. "And here we stay until you're ready to dress and return to the crowd," Itachi said, swaying and holding Kimimaro tightly.

"I... I don't wish to hold up the... the evening? I'm..." 

"Sweet boy," Itachi interrupted, " _ you _ could never do such a thing, for it is not yours in capability.  _ I _ however, can and will make arrangements necessary for your comfort." Kimimaro's breathing hitched, and Itachi kissed his lover's hair. "I will always take care of you, Kimimaro. It is my life."

"Ooh," Kimi sighed, any newly budding tension dissolving and leaving Kimi loose and pliant in Itachi's embrace. Itachi shut his eyes and mapped the texture of Kimi's hair with his lips. He tucked the towels around his lover, slipping a hand underneath so a thumb could draw lazy circles around the dermal at Kimi's hipbone. Kimimaro's choices in piercings and jewelry still intrigued Itachi. He had nothing pierced, himself, and wondered if his sweet boy would do him the honor one day. He mulled over options and basked in Kimimaro's smell and weight until Kimi shifted, head tilting. Knowing what Kimi wanted, Itachi cupped Kimi's face and kissed him. Light and languid gradually transitioned into deep and exploratory. Itachi set the pace, didn't let it quicken, and he gave himself over to Kimimaro's mouth until Kimi suckled at Itachi's tongue and withdrew, swallowing audibly.

"Master, I believe I could dress and join the party, if you think it wise."

Kimimaro's pupils were wide, devouring the grass green color like an eclipse. Itachi molded his features into a smile, nodding. "Very well."

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ∞ Kinky story is kinky… in case you hadn't noticed, somehow?
> 
> ∞ Oh high protocol… Bitch to write. Delight to read. :P
> 
> ∞ TOY REFERENCE! WOO! [Egg of Anguish Reference](http://male.stockroom.com/Ultimate-Asslock-P4596.aspx)
> 
> ∞ Also! A huge shout-out to hoka_no_koto! To whom this chapter is also dedicated thanks to the kind support. Much ♥!
> 
> ∞ For the entire list of Nagato/Itachi/Soubi/various stories, references, extras, and information, [Click Here](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/49053.html).
> 
> ∞ For all information about Monoshizukanohi that you never knew you wanted to know, click [HERE](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/12226.html).
> 
> ∞ I don’t own any characters in any fandom; I just entice them into doing things they never thought possible. The originals though, if present, are all mine. I also own the world, Monoshizukanohi, and all the places therein. 
> 
> ∞ Want more? Check out my other stories here or head over to my [Demented-Ink headquarters](https://www.demented-ink.com/). And make sure to stop by [Smoke Signals](https://www.demented-ink.com/smoke-signals) and keep in touch!
> 
> Much light, more love, and many, many baked goods.  
> ♥Dee


	4. Chapter 4

Together they stood, and Itachi steadied Kimimaro while Kimi took his tux from a hook and started to put it on, beginning with the snug briefs that would keep the toy safely lodged in his ass. They did delightful things for the shape and curve of his cheeks, and Itachi had to battle and conquer the urge to take Kimi right there against the wall until he screamed for mercy.

Itachi shook himself, tidied the room, adjusted Kimi's collar and jacket, and helped Kimi with shoes and laces. As he stood, Itachi cupped the cock cage and pressed his other hand firmly against the base of the plug. Kimi's soft cry of startled helplessness grayed the edges of Itachi's vision, and he simply stayed still until it passed, staring Kimi down and rhythmically pushing against the vibrator. Kimimaro rocked in time, and Itachi moaned his approval.

"We will go next door, we will make our entrance, and take our seat for the show." Itachi droned the words, unable to contain their greed or airy quality and not caring in the slightest to show his boy the effects Kimi had upon his bearing. "You will sit square, resting against me so I may hold you through your next wave of torment." Itachi paused for Kimimaro's beautiful whine and licked Kimi's ear when the sweet man rested forehead on Itachi's shoulder. "You will enjoy the performance, and you will endure pleasure in silence, as it is Haku's time in the spotlight. Too much and you may whisper safeword."

"It won't be," Kimimaro slurred. "Master... I..." He clutched Itachi's lapels.

Itachi hummed. "Tell me, sweet boy." It took a moment for Kimimaro to gather wit for the phrasing, and Itachi waited with anticipation beating a war song in his bloodstream. 

"An honor, unparalleled, to suffer for Master in a room of my betters while my lovely brother steals their hearts." Kimimaro kissed Itachi's throat, moist and hesitant and practically irresistible in its trembling invitation. "I want it. So much, Master. P-please."

A tendril of control frayed and snapped within Itachi, and he shoved fingers against fine wool and into the cleft of Kimi's ass. He gripped a fistful of Kimi's hair, pulling back until Kimi's head was on a wicked angle. Kimi melted into the clutch, hands on the bends of Itachi's elbows. "Sweet... boy..." Itachi rasped, the effort and intensity so thick as to be misinterpreted as fury. He fixated on the rapid rise and fall of Kimimaro's chest. "I will give you what you want. And when the hour grows late, I will thrash and fuck you until I eradicate every last scrap of sanity and consciousness from you." Itachi yanked Kimimaro into a biting, brief kiss; met a vacant stare. "Never. Fear."

"Thank you, Master," Kimimaro mumbled, and Itachi shoved and turned until they stood side by side, Itachi clinging to Kimi's waist. Grabbing his hat and cane, Itachi marched out of the bathroom, sucking deep draws of air to calm himself, else he demand his house to empty and his boys to prepare for an exhausting night of sadistically fueled lust.

The fire still roared in Itachi's gut as they swept by the servants standing at the double doors leading into the rounded ballroom. Perfectly spherical, the ballroom was painstakingly created by experts over one hundred years ago, and they shaped the space by hand, inch by inch. Above the cherry wainscoting, the walls were mustard gold covered in black silk filigree patterns. The windows along the far wall were curtained by rich, midnight drapes. The ceiling was domed and painted with a vivid color mural: arch angels wielding weaponry to battle a score of clawing demons, and cherubs sounding trumpets to call all of heaven to arms. 

The wooden floor was softened by blue and red oriental rugs, and the sofas, settees, lounges, and chairs were arranged in an artful half-moon around a regal grand piano and a polished violin held aloft on a stand. Flameless candles topped every table, ledge, shelf, and flat surface in the room. The flickering light smoothed the features of the guests, highlighted thread and fabric in glowing sheens, and filled watchful eyes with dancing luminescence. En mass the gathered horde stared as Itachi and Kimimaro went to their reserved lounge and settled upon it. Kimimaro pressed along Itachi's right side from shin to thigh to hip to flank, and as Itachi's arm drew the man even nearer, servants began hastily recalling china and dinnerware.

Nagato sat holding Soubi to Itachi's left, long fingers caressing the scars on Soubi's throat. Itachi nodded, and Nagato returned the sentiment, expression speaking volumes of contentment and approval. Vaguely, Itachi made note of the other guests, and saw that Abel and Miroku were not among them. Too much for the monk to accept, Itachi supposed, though he knew Abel would mourn being unable to stay. Neji sat on a lounge with Shikamaru, whispering in the boy's ear. Deidara knelt on the floor at Sasori's feet, head in Sasori's lap and gown spilling in mounds of silk across the rugs. Gunji and Kiriwar sat next to Sasori, both men absently petting Deidara's heaving shoulders. Comfort needed from punishment doled, no doubt. Ibiki and company occupied a horseshoe divan. Kiba and Gaara sat snugly together on a loveseat, mostly in shadow. Kisame sat in a lone chair, evidently lost in thought, and Starrk lounged on a wide sofa, hat tossed carelessly on the floor. 

Conversation died swiftly, the crowd sensing that the night's entertainment was afoot. The staff exited in a practiced scurry, and a clock chimed the hour. An air of mystical wonderment rose in the room with each toll of the time, growing in the hushed silences between the prolonged pauses. With the last clang, the men at the doorway rapped their heels in thunderous synchronicity. Heads turned and curiosity piqued to fever pitch when the servants raised and rang a pair of bells. They played the chimes so they counted the seconds, musical and pretty and seemingly riding the waves of attention wafting from the men waiting in the makeshift ballroom wings. 

Two figures appeared, silhouetted in the threshold. One was cloaked in swaths of dark velvet that tumbled to drag in a train, a hood obscuring any hint of face. The other was Merek, garbed in a sleek black uniform complete with silver tassels, shining buttons, and the Uchiha crest. His shoulders and spine were locked in a military stance that never wavered as he slowly escorted the other individual through the crowd and to the center of the room. Every neck pivoted, every pair of eyes studied, and multiple lips parted when Merek dipped a bow to Itachi and Kimimaro, smartly positioned himself behind the smaller, draped figure, and respectfully removed the hood and cloak to reveal Haku.

Collective gasps and startled sounds arose from the group, Itachi's among them. Haku was completely nude save for ropes of dazzling diamonds in his hair and thicker cuffs of the clear gems about his throat, around his wrists, slung low on his hips, and encircling his ankles. Haku's pale pink nipples were hard, his cock filling and elongating beneath the scrutiny of the room. His finger and toenails were lacquered black, kohl liner highlighted his eyelids, and his rouged cheekbones could cut glass. He'd added black roses to the complicated arrangement of his thick curls, and a petal fell to the rug next to Haku's foot while the people in the room remembered how to breathe. The scars earned from a former life only added to Haku's beauty and did nothing to mar the pale, hairless skin. Haku had smeared some sort of faintly shimmering body ointment everywhere, enhancing the surrealism. He stood with his arms loosely at his sides, eyes cast down in classic respect, expression soft and neutral. Before them all, Haku appeared to gleam, a misplaced member of the dark court of Faerie, a foundling left for dead upon Itachi's door, taken and nourished by love and blood and repaying the service with his unabashed, unashamed, and unmatched beauty. 

A moment passed in awed appreciation, and Itachi finally noticed that Kimimaro clung to Itachi's jacket. Itachi squeezed Kimimaro tighter, both of them unable to tear their sight away from Haku. With some unspoken signal, Merek extended an arm, and Haku took Merek's hand. Haku swept one leg behind the other, covered his heart with one palm, and dipped a low bow in a graceful arc of lithe limbs. A smattering of conservative applause met the gesture, and Merek helped Haku rise and take his seat on the piano bench. 

The sight of candlelight in Haku's cascading hair and of the man's slender form bedecked in the Uchiha family jewels made Itachi physically hurt, eyes stinging with pride, joy, and affection. That was  _ his _ boy smiling at Merek, who picked up the violin and stood at the ready. That was  _ his _ lovely Haku who poised dainty fingers over ivory keys and took a deep breath, the swell of diaphragm entrancing every human in the room.

And then Haku began to play, and with the first few chords of  _ Moonlight Sonata _ , Haku spun a spell that transported them all into an alternate plane. Beyond the walls and doors, everything gave way to darkness; stars and supernovas and spiraling seas of galaxies. Merek chimed in, the bow awakening the violin's strings to sing in mournful accompaniment, and the second instrument sealed their collective fate: lost to the music must they be for however long their captors deemed it fit. 

Kimimaro's minute trembling stole Itachi's attention, and with a light touch, he brushed away the tears coursing across Kimi's cheeks. Kimimaro's happy, proud smile lit up every dank corner of Itachi's life-weary soul, and Itachi encouraged Kimi's head onto Itachi's shoulder. The swell of a sigh moved Kimi, and Itachi became reacquainted with all the reasons he now longed to live forever.

Haku played through all three movements of Sonata Number Fourteen, the transitions flawless. When the composition drew close to its ending, Haku lightened the touch of finger to instrument, flowing from one piece of music to the next. Rachmaninov's Elegy in E-Flat Minor seemed to be made to come after Beethoven, and Merek's masterful string work supported Haku with passionate grace.

In a credit to the talent before them, the assembled guests didn't so much as shuffle or cough for the first half hour that Haku and Merek played. Itachi wasn't sure what some of the pieces were, but he did know that Haku had arranged them masterfully. The mood began sleepy, somber, grew to longing and eerie, and gradually transformed into notes that had everyone swaying in time. Haku and Merek communicated with looks and nods, words unnecessary, and Itachi thrilled for some minor mishap that Itachi didn't catch, but that had Haku laughing and shaking curls. 

Sometime during the fourth piece, Itachi slipped a hand into his pocket and turned on Kimi's vibrator. With a keen enthusiasm that bordered on mischievous, Itachi amused himself by timing the increase and decrease of vibrations to the music. When that became too obvious, he set the speed to barely noticeable for the first half of a lively tune, and then turned it up all the way when the song quieted. Itachi had selected the particular toy not only for its size and capability, but also for its insulation. It wouldn't be heard by anyone else but Itachi, and the noise was merely a faint hum. 

Kimimaro behaved beautifully. Despite the tensing, sighing, jerking, holding breath and exhaling shudders that Itachi could clearly feel and see, it would take a discerning eye to decipher what was happening beneath Kimimaro's clothes. Haku and Merek kept the audience enraptured, affording Kimimaro some leeway to move as necessary to maintain absolute silence. 

Nagato's knowing glance, however, was not lost upon Itachi. But he merely kissed Kimi's hair, smirking at his old Master, who chuckled and stroked a single finger in a line that followed the contour of Soubi's thigh. 

The musicians didn't pause for the duration of the performance, and to Itachi it flew by on rainbow wings, the tunes inspiring pretty color pictures when he shut his eyes and lost himself to the beauty of harmonious creation. When Haku finally trilled soft notes that drifted into nothing, and Merek stepped forward with the clear intention of addressing the crowd, Kimimaro was shaking with the effort of restraint. Itachi shut off the toy, and Kimimaro slumped. Itachi could smell sweat and arousal, and knowing that Kimi's dick must be straining and leaking in its cage had Itachi gritting teeth on a triumphant shout of dominance.

"Dear friends and guests of the manor, our final piece of the evening is a special one." Merek threw an affectionate glance at Haku, who resituated on the bench to face everyone, gaze indirect and Cupid's bow mouth tipped in a tiny smile that kept threatening to widen beyond Haku's sense of propriety. 

Merek gesticulated with his bow as he spoke: "It was chosen by the lovely sir in tribute to our Lord Itachi, who rules his kingdom with a firm hand, watchful eye, and loving heart. I've heard both My Lord's sweet partners refer to their life and time here as a fairy tale come true, and so it seemed only appropriate to the lovely sir and I that we end in homage to happy endings manifesting outside the pages of storybooks. We hope you forgive the heavy helping of happiness that inspired such a choice, and we hope some of it reaches and resides in each of you." Merek's countenance struggled for sincerity, and the grin nearly won. "For, as my lovely sir stated to me during our practice, anything is possible once upon a dream."

Merek bowed low and smartly to Itachi and Kimimaro, and Itachi could scarcely contain the continual thrills exploding within him. He was exceedingly grateful that he only had to graciously nod and not speak, because he was absolutely sure language was beyond him. 

Haku's chuckle at Merek's speech was rich, Merek's reset was exuberant, and they smiled at one another before Haku turned to the piano, straightened shoulders, and played the opening notes of Tchaikovsky's,  _ Sleeping Beauty's Waltz _ . Laughter from those who recognized the piece rose and crested above the waves of music, and there wasn't a weary, worried, or wretched piece or part in any of the men listening with undisguised rapture to the rhythmic arrangement. Merek couldn't stop smiling, and Itachi caught a tell-tale sign that one final surprise was coming just as Merek's violin faded into the background and Haku took the fore. 

Measures and bars resounded, softened, and Merek let the violin and bow fall to his sides. In perfect time and precise pitch, Merek began to sing--

_ "I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream..." _

\--and his rich voice caused a riot of applause and a single squeal of delight from Deidara. Perhaps in someone else's home or on another stage, the final touch would have been frivolous, but Merek's perfect blend of humor and humility allowed the vocals to walk the line between serious and silly. Itachi was sure a few pairs of eyes rolled, but even Nagato was smiling openly at Soubi's expressive, childlike joy. 

Voices rang in alarmed delight, and Itachi turned to see Kiba pulling Gaara around in a playful twirl. Gaara staggered through the steps, laughing out loud. Ibiki was crouched over knees, head in hands, but clearly amused. Starrk conducted from the lounge with amateur sweeps through the air, and Genma mimed a merry jig that was far more jest than jeer. More laughter swelled when something inspired Shikamaru to launch at Neji, kissing with a dramatic flair that had the Hyuuga pantomiming the wave of an invisible white flag. Kiriwar and Gunji sat with crossed arms and unimpressed expressions, but Deidara stood and swayed in place, and when the song was done, the cheers hurt Itachi's ears. Kimimaro's clapping was violent in its appreciation, the whistles and catcalls shrill, and Itachi had risen, walked to Haku, and lifted the boy off the bench into a ferocious kiss before Itachi even knew what was happening.

"I love you," Itachi said against Haku's cheek, the three words infused with a riot of emotion that strained at being so condensed.

"And we you," Haku answered. Kimimaro had come closer, and Itachi grabbed both his men and kissed them breathless. Chaos unfurled, and everyone drew around the trio in a circle. In the congratulatory babble, even Sasori, the most stern of the guests, forgave Haku the finale with a quick embrace, citing that the rest of the performance spoke of skill beyond anything anyone else could do. Hugs, kisses, and kind words filled every nook and cranny of the ballroom, and servants entered to bring up the lights, slowly signaling that the night was at its end. Itachi kept his arms around Kimimaro, charmed at the way Haku could be so completely bare and so utterly at peace. 

Gradually, the guests' high began to fall, and the farewells began. When the mood reached that particular tipping point, Haku returned to Itachi's side without needing to be beckoned. Itachi passed the remote control over to Haku, who palmed it discretely. Merek was magically there, draping the cloak around Haku's shoulders, and Haku took up position on Kimimaro's other side. Haku looked at Itachi, expectant, and Kimimaro leaned hard against Itachi, suddenly panting.

"Shall we continue, sweet boy?" Itachi murmured, oblivious to the chatter of conversation in the room or of anyone's attempts to gain his attention.

"Yes, Master. It's all been... so... wonderful."

"And thus we have no choice but to make it better." Itachi cupped both of Kimi's cheeks and kissed his forehead before addressing Haku: "Take him to the Master chambers' sitting room and prepare him with my permission, lovely boy."

"I live to obey, My Lord," Haku answered, ducking under Kimimaro's arm. They exited without further fanfare through the hidden panel door leading into the bathroom Kimi and Itachi had made use of earlier. 

Of all the phases of dinner parties and social affairs, Itachi hated the ending rituals with the most passion. Exhaustion always ate at him after being in public for appearances, and the complicated tango of falsely regretful good-byes, artificially hopeful promises to meet again, and last complimentary exchanges tended to drain the rest of Itachi's reserves. 

So when Merek stepped deliberately in front of Itachi and roused the guests toward the ballroom doors, Itachi tried not to wilt to the ground in abject relief. Merek herded with the insistence and skill of a cowboy to cattle, leaving Itachi to follow along like a ranch hand initiate. Merek's ability to manage niceties -- "Why, yes, I have played the violin for years, is that your coat being brought forth by the charming Christopher? It  _ is _ ? Well lest us perish in the thought of making the urchin wait. He does it poorly, blessed lad." -- with direction was as amusing as it was functional. Gloves, hats, scarves, coats, jackets, and cell phones were passed out to their owners in an organized flurry, every item tagged with a name, and Merek stood by Itachi's side as the grand entry doors were opened to the frigid night air.

"Lovely to see you, good-bye," Merek said, over and over, not letting anyone dally longer than it took to shake Itachi's hand and praise the party's success. It was quick, professional, courteous, and no one would dare complain, especially when a member of the staff paired up with each exiting group or individual to brave the cold, open doors, and wave at tail lights. Itachi actually had enough presence of mind to feel the pangs of regret that the evening was at its public close. He pressed two fingers to his lips in wonder and leaned against the iron maiden to recover from the whirlwind.

"Staff, both hired and familiar, will take care of the rest of this unpleasantness, My Lord," Merek counseled from his position at Itachi's elbow. "We all wish for nothing to keep you too long from your gentle sirs."

Maybe Itachi still basked in the enchantment of Haku and Merek's performance. Perhaps the enthusiasm for the coming events infused Itachi's blood with recklessness and made it difficult to find typical restraint. Some of it was certainly Merek's sublime service and capable calm. 

But whatever the combination of reason or misplaced logic, Itachi was helpless to stop himself from pushing off the torture chamber, tucking his cane under one arm, grasping Merek's shoulders, and kissing the man on both cheeks and the lips, the final touch softer but lingering far longer than polite society -- gay or otherwise -- would allow.

"Thank you," Itachi said, pleased by Merek's ripe flush and rapid blinking. "You were exquisite tonight."

"Welcome, My Lord, and thank you," Merek said, recovering at the speed of experience and training. "Yours to command as you deem it fit, My Lord." And then, quieter, Merek's bright brown eyes alight with inner resolve and spirit, "Always."

"Good man," Itachi said, squeezing Merek's arms and letting go so Merek could bark dictatorial remarks to underlings and Itachi could dash up the curving stairwell. He undid his jacket and vest as he strode toward the Garden of Eden doors, and saw them ajar when he rounded the final corner. When he got close enough, Itachi grasped both golden handles and threw the doors wide, stopping to relish every detail of the picture before him.

The wide sitting area had been rearranged, the scattering of serviceable chairs and benches covered in striped silken fabrics moved out of the way. The single chandelier dimly glowed along with more flameless candles. The drapes were drawn, a curtain encircled the nook housing the baby grand piano, and the thick, blue rugs covering the wooden floorboards had been moved to lie beneath the seven-foot tall, dark oak suspension rig that stood in the middle of the room. It resembled a set of monkey bars, D-rings attached along the closely and regularly-spaced flat rungs that lined the tops and sides. Four heavy struts jutted from each corner to maintain the rig's balance. The entire piece weighed a ton, could support up to one thousand pounds of stress, and had been built by skilled craftsmen in this very chamber over the last couple of weeks while Itachi's boys had been occupied elsewhere.

Two tables flanked the wooden rig. One held lube, condoms, a medical kit, and bolt cutters. On the other was a collection of canes and floggers, a blindfold, several lengths of chain, and a pile of metal clasps. A footstool was tucked out of the way beneath the second table, and the pile of cuffs and straps that Itachi had set out were now in splendid use.

Kimimaro was on his knees, naked save for jewelry, collar, and caged cock. Heavy-duty suspension cuffs enclosed his wrists, ankles, and thighs, just above his knees. He wore a leather harness studded with rings that wrapped around his waist and the juncture of both thighs to body, framing his groin and ass and leaving both accessible. His arms were behind his back, and Haku's dick was in his mouth, splitting pierced, swollen lips with long, even strokes that bottomed out in Kimimaro's throat. Haku held the remote to the vibrator still buried in Kimimaro, and turned it up all the way. Kimi barked a shout that Haku stifled, relentless in the torment with a fist clutching Kimimaro's hair and a positively evil litany spilling from Haku's tongue that rose in volume upon Itachi's arrival.

"Our Lord is here," Haku said, light and loving while gagging Kimi with his cock. Kimimaro writhed, hands clawing at their grips on opposite elbows and chest heaving for air in the throes of suffocation, but Haku only pressed Kimi tighter into Haku's crotch. "May he forgive me for choosing such base methods to loosen your resolve, my brother." Haku's head tipped back and slowly pivoted toward Itachi, though Haku's lashes stayed lowered and the words grew forced as Haku struggled to rise above sensation. "Or may he outline my transgressions in whip marks and cane welts until I scream that my flesh and soul are his and only his, forevermore." Haku let go, stilled the toy and set aside the remote, and held Kimi close through a wracking coughing fit.

For an instant, the urge to fuck was so powerful that Itachi wasn't sure he could reign in that leash and keep that beast caged. It was overload, seeing his sweet boy suffering and his lovely boy in diamond dress obeying Itachi's commands so perfectly. He pivoted, not answering, and shut the doors, the latch clicks loud in the room. He spun again, clacked the cane on the floor and leaned upon it, seeming to consider the scene before him while in truth he regained his grounding. His silence inspired slivers of uncertainty in Haku, shown in the way Haku clung tighter to Kimimaro, bending so slightly at the waste to curl around Haku's brother in submission. Pleased, Itachi began to approach the pair, but he kept his pace measured and rapped the cane's end in an arrhythmic beat. A flash of memory overtook him: how many times had he been bound and blinded and struggling to breathe around the pounding of his heart as Nagato drew near? The anticipation had always ratcheted to impossible levels, and Itachi thrilled when his mimicry produced similar effects on his treasures.

For it may look as though Itachi simply walked across old boards and rugs, but really he balanced on a razor's edge. One false step and the blade would slice him in twain. Tonight Haku had been the focus of the crowd, and Kimi would be the center of their Scene. Itachi wasn't worried about managing Kimimaro at this juncture; his sweet boy's acceptance and give was evident at one hundred yards, and Itachi was free to deliver upon his promises and nurture Kimi's trusting vulnerability. 

Haku, however, also had needs and presented challenges, and they were quite different than Kimimaro's. Haku knew enough about what was to happen so that Haku could agree to its terms and do what was required. He would even enjoy his role to its fullest, find fulfillment in playing the part of Itachi's second in command that Kimimaro never could. Itachi had no desire whatsoever to undermine the confidence Haku needed to wield weaponry and meet Itachi's expectations. Quite the opposite, really: Itachi wanted to feed Haku's wicked streak and watch it flower with thorns.

But much as Kimimaro only understood true worth and value in utter submission, however, Haku only comprehended his place in Itachi's world when at the mercy of true affection. Haku could accept praise and compliments like tithes to the altar of self all day every day. The words fed him and registered within, it was true, but often the meaning behind the expressions rolled off Haku like the boy could shrug pain. Getting through to Haku and encouraging the boy to grow in ways that would foster the good and continue to kill off the evil done to Haku in the past was an art form that Itachi likened to molding glass. The raw material was molten-malleable and magnificent in itself. When heat and proper pressure were applied by the hands of a master craftsman, the glass thinned and began to show its real potential. Shape, caress, and mold with patience, and the real beauty emerged with the delicate guidance toward the final goal. Work it right, and the outcome would be startling and eager only to please the man who understood the material's makeup so intimately. But pull or push too much, and the stems would break, the air bubbles would burst, and Itachi would be on hands and knees to gather the shards and start again.

The analogy applied to both Itachi's beloveds, but here and now, it was Haku to whom Itachi had to put the most delicate touch. So he took his time in the stroll, letting low-lying anxiety burble. He could soothe it shortly. Itachi kept quiet, letting Haku fret that the wrong thing had been said. Itachi could quell and dispel the doubts momentarily. He needed just enough leverage in the cracks of Haku's walls to worm within and plant more seeds of peace.

When he was within arm's reach, Itachi flung his top hat into a corner and the cane to the floor, the clatter making Haku and Kimi jump. Itachi pulled Kimimaro to him first, humming in approval and petting Kimi's hair when the man wrapped around Itachi's leg. Haku stared at Itachi's feet, breath quickening. The flash of diamonds was brilliant in the dull light. Itachi could smell Haku, lush like decadent fruit off the vine, and though he wanted to draw Haku into his clutches and whisper a prayer of praise, he kept his distance.

"My sweets, my beauties..." Itachi rumbled, and it was enough for Kimimaro to relax completely against him. Haku, however, went more rigid. Itachi stretched one arm to Haku, curled two fingers behind Haku's lower jaw, and pressed into the tender point. Haku relented to Itachi's lead, head going back until Itachi stopped the motion by hooking his thumb over Haku's chin. "My lovely, answer me true: what do good boys receive from me?"

Haku's lips parted, the tip of pink tongue darting to wet them. "Pain as they please, pleasure in abundance, and all as it serves My Lord."

"Well said," Itachi replied. He increased the pressure until Haku balanced on the balls of bare feet. Haku wouldn't look at him, and Haku's erection began to wilt. Itachi would fix that, too, but not yet. "And what do bad boys receive, my precious one?"

Haku whimpered. "Nothing, My Lord," Haku whispered. Itachi lifted his arm higher, forcing Haku on tiptoe. "They earn nothing," Haku repeated, louder, and Kimimaro hung on to Itachi so tightly the muscles complained.

Itachi ignored the discomfort, however, caught up in glory and basking in the righteousness of pride. Haku was undone by manageable fear, leaving Itachi open to remake him with what Haku needed: love. "Yes, Haku. And so tonight you understand that I am bound by my desire to give you both everything and anything you want, so great is my joy."

Luminous eyes widened and met Itachi's, and he held the painful pose for a few more seconds so the truth could sink and settle before relenting and cradling both his boys against him. Haku's embrace was fierce, the strength of it surprising for such a small frame. Itachi snuffed the urge to tell Haku how impressed and awed he was by the performance. Such things could come later when it wasn't a dangerous thing to unravel Haku's determination to perform by being so sincerely loving. He contented himself with kisses to Haku's hair, and he allowed Haku to squirm and drop to kneel. 

"My Lord," Haku said, taking Itachi's hand and holding it to his mouth, nuzzling it like a kitten. "At your leisure, please impart upon me how I may best serve you and my brother. I am yours to command."

"Rise, both of you," Itachi ordered, and he made sure to support Kimimaro as the two men complied. "Feed me your kisses." Itachi spoke while looking at Kimi, and Itachi took equal time tasting Kimimaro and then Haku, in turn. 

"Lovely boy, fetch refreshment for your brother. He thirsts."

"Yes, My Lord." Haku danced across the room to a small fridge and returned with a bottle containing a mixture that was part protein-infused sports drink and water. 

"Thank you," Itachi said absently, uncapping the bottle and tipping the liquid into Kimi's waiting mouth. Kimimaro groaned, swallowing greedily, and Itachi gave Kimi most of the contents before handing the drink off to Haku to set nearby on a table.

"Tell me how you stop me tonight, my sweet boy," Itachi said to Kimi.

"Safewords, Master." 

"Very good. Do you wish to speak them?"

Kimi adamantly shook his head, and Haku took his hand. "No, Master." 

The affirmation set Itachi's resolve, threw levers on a fuse box and sent electricity surging through his nervous system. "Thank you, my boys. You honor me."

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ∞ Haku's Set List  
> [Beethoven Moonlight Sonata - Piano Sonata No. 14](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Tr0otuiQuU&feature=related)  
> [Rachmaninov - Fantasy Pieces Op. 3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9abN6qNsyak&feature=related)  
> [The Ghost Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mCRa7S8O-tU)  
> [A Secret Garden - Theme Violin & Piano arrangement](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tS-DmhSXL7A&feature=related)  
> [Yiruma - Kiss the Rain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PExdC9sdAPw&feature=related)  
> [Dvorak - Op. 11 Romance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XZTeavJ9frA&feature=related)  
> [Tchaikovsky - Sleeping Beauty's Waltz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFRhF-eDKkY)  
> [Male Vocals for Sleeping Beauty's Waltz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxkw1TU_4-o)
> 
> And let's hear it for MEREK! :D
> 
> ∞ For the entire list of Nagato/Itachi/Soubi/various stories, references, extras, and information, [Click Here](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/49053.html).
> 
> ∞ For all information about Monoshizukanohi that you never knew you wanted to know, click [HERE](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/12226.html).
> 
> ∞ I don’t own any characters in any fandom; I just entice them into doing things they never thought possible. The originals though, if present, are all mine. I also own the world, Monoshizukanohi, and all the places therein. 
> 
> ∞ Want more? Check out my other stories here or head over to my [Demented-Ink headquarters](https://www.demented-ink.com/). And make sure to stop by [Smoke Signals](https://www.demented-ink.com/smoke-signals) and keep in touch!
> 
> Much light, more love, and many, many baked goods.  
> ♥Dee


	5. Chapter 5

Kimimaro glanced at Itachi and lunged for another kiss. Itachi returned the fervor in kind and held Kimi's head to his shoulder when the kiss broke. "Lovely boy?" 

"Yes, My Lord?" Haku answered, glittering gaze set upon Kimimaro.

"Do you think Kimi would like to be suspended in the rig I made for him?" 

"Oh, yes, My Lord," Haku said on a sigh, and Itachi couldn't help but laugh softly as he played one of his men off the other. It was an old game, but always a satisfying one.

Kimimaro trembled, and Itachi petted his hair. "You saw the evidence of our earlier session?"

Haku stepped to observe the red lines on Kimimaro's backside and thighs that he had undoubtedly noticed. "Yes, My Lord."

"Do you believe our sweet boy could take more?" Itachi paused while Kimimaro grappled for a grip on Itachi's tux, and moist breath blew heatedly against Itachi's throat. "Say, flogging and perhaps more time under a cane?"

"Please... please..." Kimimaro began to chant, and he ground the cockcage against Itachi's thigh with a muted whimper.

"Yes, My Lord." Haku spoke with pure confidence. "He is not nearly at his limit, yet, My Lord."

"Mm," Itachi hummed. He trailed touch from Haku's throat to nipple to the chain of diamonds around Haku's hips, finally reaching Haku's erection, which he palmed and pulled. Haku's gasp was a symphony unto itself. "And you will assist me." Itachi was pleased when the phrase was equal parts inquiry and directive.

"I live and die in the chance to serve you and your causes, My Lord." 

Itachi stroked Kimimaro's spine, eliciting shivers. "Your enthusiasm never fails to please." Itachi released Haku and eased away from Kimimaro. "Haku, grab the stool beneath that table, place it in the center of the rig, and let's get our lover entrapped to our mercy."

Haku replied by doing, and Itachi occupied himself by attempting to touch every inch of Kimi's skin. "Sweet boy," Itachi said over Kimimaro's lips. "Turn, bend, and present me your ass."

" _ Nngh _ ... Master..." Kimimaro staggered on the rotation, and Itachi caught his hips, steadying Kimi as he put palms flat on the floor. 

"There's a good boy," Itachi droned, and he fucked Kimimaro with the vibrator until Haku had the stool in place and stood at the ready. Kimi's body relinquished the plug with a lovely flutter, and Itachi tossed it into a basket set aside for used items. "Rise," he said, helping Kimimaro to straighten and pressing Kimi's back flush to Itachi's front. He nudged Kimimaro toward the rig, and when Kimimaro stopped before the stool, Itachi urged Kimi to face him. Kimi's pale, pretty skin was infused with a rosy blush, lips pink from attention. "Very good," Itachi crooned and then addressed Haku: "Chains and clasps."

"Oooh..." Kimimaro's knees threatened to give, and Itachi held him upright, rocking him. 

"My love," Itachi murmured, kissing cheek, jaw, ear. "What will I always do for you?"

"Take... care... Master..."

"Yes, Kimi, yes." The clink of link signaled Haku's return, and Itachi eyed his lovely boy -- demanded the gaze be held by expression alone. "I will render your body helpless. I will free your mind. I will give you everything. And you will be in the safety of your Master's arms before, during, and after."

"Itachi. God." Kimimaro panted the words, gone enough that he spoke name instead of title, and Itachi smiled when Haku's hands flexed around the cords of chain and pieces of metal, lip caught under upper teeth.

Drawing back but maintaining constant contact with Kimi, Itachi selected a particular length from the collection Haku held. "Give me your wrists, sweet boy."

Kimimaro offered the cuffs without reservation, and Itachi set to work with Haku's help. Itachi hooked chain onto the heavy rings on each wrist cuff, and then reached up with Kimi to fasten each cuff to thick rings set overhead in metal plates in the rig's wood. He adjusted until Kimi had some slack, but not much, and gestured for Haku to step out of the way. "Get on the stool, pull up, and put your feet on the side rungs, sweet boy." 

Itachi wrapped an arm around Kimi's waist despite the fact that the split was an easy reach for Kimimaro's flexibility. Were Kimi any other man, Itachi would go about this differently, but Itachi had an unending adoration for Kimi's contortionist abilities. "Slowly," Itachi cautioned, and Kimi nodded. One foot found a hold on Itachi's left, and Itachi hugged Kimi while he got the other foot on a slat to Itachi's right. 

"Perfect," Itachi praised, making haste to attach more lengths of chain to the cuffs just above Kimimaro's knees. It took some guesswork and adjustment, but Itachi latched Kimi's legs to the plates overhead so that they were spread, though not so wide as to inhibit orgasm or to be uncomfortable for any duration of time. Kimi's strength aided Itachi while he searched for the perfect D-ring attachment to make a vee-shape, and as soon as the second clasp was set, Itachi ducked under and behind Kimimaro. He snapped chain from the harness at the base of Kimimaro's spine and hooked it to a ring straight above them. When Kimi eased into the supports, testing, and they kept Kimi vertical and aloft without undo pressure on Kimi's joints or limbs, Itachi breathed an audible sigh of relief. The harness created a seat of sorts, the thigh cuffs took weight off Kimi's wrists, and the spine support held the suspension stable.

"Almost done," Itachi said, sweeping to Kimi's front again and taking two more clasps from Haku. Itachi hooked one end to Kimi's ankle cuff, and carefully pushed Kimi's leg bent, attaching the other end to a ring on the strip of leather around Kimi's upper thigh. Kimimaro's breathing went staccato, and Itachi observed Kimi's cock straining in its confines as he fastened the other leg. 

"A little more," Itachi counseled, rubbing Kimimaro's shins. The final two lengths of chain ran from the cuffs framing Kimimaro's groin to points almost vertical, providing the final bit of support and allowing Kimimaro to rest completely in the net of leather and metal. 

Stepping back, Itachi scrutinized the handiwork. Kimimaro's hands were above his head and wrapped around the binding leather cuffs. His back and shoulders were available, the chain and collar protecting his spine and neck, and he sat upright with bent, pinned, spread legs that laid vulnerable inner thighs, groin, and ass. Kimi's head rested against one of his arms, chest rising and falling with deep gulps of air.

"Perfect," Itachi pronounced. "My cane, lovely boy." Haku swept the snake-head silver cane from the floor. Kimimaro shook all over, but watched through narrowed, hooded eyes. 

Itachi made a soft sound of comfort and warning. "Not yet, sweet boy." Itachi twirled the cane, hooked the end of it around Haku's middle, and tugged Haku closer. With another flourish, Itachi brought the length of the antique shaft up and across Haku, trapping him. Haku groaned, one hand on the cane and the other fisting Itachi's jacket. "Tell me, lovely boy," Itachi said, happily wrestling Haku still when Haku tested the constriction. "Do you find your brother beautiful, trussed and exposed?"

"God yes, My Lord," Haku said, high and honest. 

"Do you want to touch him, lovely boy?" Itachi purred.

"Yes, My Lord... oh yes." Haku rubbed his ass against Itachi's dick, which hardened fully while Itachi rasped in Haku's ear.

"Do you want to hurt him, my beauty?"

"Yes," Haku hissed, and when he let go of the cane to reach for himself, Itachi snarled and drew back on the bar against Haku's chest. Haku cried out and slapped a palm to Itachi's thigh, clinging to the fabric.

"And do you long to  _ fuck _ him, my precious one?"

Itachi wasn't sure whose groan was louder: Kimimaro's or Haku's. Both sounds tightened Itachi's balls and fueled demonic greed. 

"As you allow it, My Lord," Haku answered, rolling with Itachi's teasing thrusts. "So I would obey and take my brother until he cries." 

"Good boy." Itachi swept the cane away and covered the front of Haku's throat with one wide hand. The throbbing flow in the arteries beneath the hold set the napalm in Itachi's veins ablaze. "Go to him. Touch him. Caress, kiss, squeeze and dig your nails into welts and render new ones. But do  _ not _ penetrate him or lay a finger on his balls or on the cage." Itachi kissed Haku's shoulder, licked a short line to taste the shimmering lotion and sweat. "Go." 

With the command, Itachi released Haku, who flew to Kimimaro and dove for Kimi's mouth. Wet, slick, hungry sounds filled the air, and Itachi began to undress. 

"It will be so  _ good _ , Kimi," Haku whispered, earning quiet cries with each swift suck and mark he laid to Kimi's throat and chest. 

"It is... it... is..." Kimimaro flexed against the restrictions that held him and moaned when they didn't grant an inch of forgiveness.

Itachi tossed his jacket, stripped off his tie, and ripped open his shirt's buttons. "Blindfold him, lovely boy."

"Oh God, Master, please... I... oh...  _ oh _ ..." Kimimaro's words devolved into syllables of pleading, and Haku ignored them all while fetching and placing a black leather blind across Kimi's eyes. Kimi's head rolled limp on his neck. He lifted himself by the cuffs, struggling without any real fight in the action, and wood creaked and chain rattled. Haku attacked Kimimaro's nipples, pulling and twisting with force that Itachi would be hesitant to mimic.

" _ Shityes _ ," Kimimaro called, and Haku had to arch his spine to keep Kimimaro from finding any hint of friction against Haku's torso. 

Itachi made short work of his pants, underwear, socks, and shoes. "Nails, Haku," he advised, crossing to the table and selecting a flogger with red leather tails and a silver dragonhead handle.

"Blood, My Lord?" Haku asked, sturdy despite an impressive erection and lusty husk in his voice.

"As you like," Itachi allowed, and Kimimaro's breathing began to break on high whines. The response didn't concern Itachi;  _ lack _ of reaction would. So long as Kimimaro sang along to the tune of this torture, Itachi would continue. 

Pulse beating like a harpy's wings, Itachi got behind Kimimaro and wrapped a hand around Kimi's throat just as Haku set fingernails in the blond curls of Kimi's armpits and sliced eight scratches along Kimimaro's flanks. Kimi gagged on a sound and went silent, mouth open and chest heaving. Red droplets welled from some of the wounds and dribbled to the floor below.

"Beautiful," Itachi said to Kimimaro. "Something nicer, now. Haku?"

"My Lord?"

"Tend to his balls."

Kimimaro's groan was that of a rutting animal, and Itachi turned Kimi's head to meet Itachi's kiss. Haku knelt, hooked arms around Kimi's legs, and Kimimaro's eager keens told Itachi all he needed to know of what Haku was doing. Suckling, licking, catching teeth on the piercings, no doubt, and it all aided Kimimaro to drown in a sea of nerve-frying pleasure-pain. 

"You know what this is, sweet boy?" Itachi asked, passing the flogger from one hand to the other around Kimimaro's body and dragging the leather across Kimi's stomach. 

"Uh huh," Kimi replied, nodding.

"Want it?" Itachi whispered, kissing Kimi's shoulder.

"Yes... yes...  _ nnngh _ ... yes...."

"Done. Haku? Suck both balls into your mouth."

Kimimaro let loose a positively vile slew of cursing through gritted teeth, and Itachi stroked himself when the urge was too much to bear. He retreated several steps, and toyed with the underside of his dick, just beneath the head. Haku was on bended knees, hair trailing to the rug to one side to accommodate the angle required to keep both Kimi's nuts between snug lips. Haku was as hard as the diamonds still decadently decorating a diminutive body that Itachi needed to fuck and break so badly for a sheer second that it almost undid him. It was so blessedly  _ perfect _ that the room spun. Haku's eyes were on Itachi, though unfocused and mostly shut, and above Haku, Kimimaro was rigid in the rig, waiting and clawing at the cuffs.

Ceasing the tormenting strokes, Itachi rolled his shoulders, breathed cleansing breaths, and cleared his mind with a practiced count to a meditative three. He gauged the distance between himself and Kimimaro on autopilot. He knew the flogger, he knew his target, and he knew the range of his swings. The rush of air was his warning, and he struck Kimi's left shoulder with a caress of tails. Itachi noted the precise way Kimimaro both relaxed when the anticipation finally dissolved and jerked, for even the minute movement was a reminder that Kimi's balls were firmly enclosed in a flesh vise that was in close proximity to teeth. Haku breathed messily through a slender nose, and Itachi followed through with a hit to the opposite shoulder.

"Oh yes," Itachi murmured, and struck again a few inches from the first site of impact. "Just as I want." Another hit, other side, same force. "My boys." A return to the first side for a repeat. "Suck harder, Haku." Kimimaro coughed a wheezing commentary on the sensation and another lick of tails landed. "Tug as you dare, Haku." 

Kimimaro bellowed with the completion of that command, and Itachi kept the pattern of speak and strike until every muscle in Kimimaro's upper body was outlined in tension. "Release him, Haku." 

With a whooshing gasp, Haku crumbled to all fours, obviously affected by Kimi's reactions and Itachi's directives. "Fetch a cane, lovely boy," Itachi kindly ordered, and Haku's mumbled verbal ascent didn't quite translate. He picked up a short rattan cane off the table, however, and shook himself visibly when he took up his post between Kimi's thighs. 

Itachi strode forward, covered the front of Kimi's throat with his free hand, and lifted Kimimaro's chin until it met resistance from the leather strap behind it. "Cane to inner thighs, flogger to back, and we stop when you screech safeword or your head falls, my sweet boy."

"Shit... yeah... Master..." Kimimaro said between lung-aching sucks of wind, and Kimi repeated Itachi's title, over and over, with the kind of naked worship that struck deeply into Itachi's heart and built fires in barren hearths. Itachi peppered kisses along Kimimaro's neck, and Haku bent and did the same to Kimimaro's legs. They continued the affection until Kimimaro calmed, somewhat, and Itachi met Haku's eyes to nod.

In unison, Itachi and Haku withdrew. Haku petted the length of the cane along Kimimaro's skin, letting Kimi know what was coming. Itachi touched each of Kimimaro's shoulders, drew circles with faint fingertips, and, again, in tandem, Itachi and Haku took their stances.

Itachi's next swing was not kind. It was not the one he'd use after an hour of warm up during a session built solely for destruction, but it was far from the playful swats he'd inflicted a moment ago. Haku struck at the same time, and Itachi didn't bother monitoring Haku's actions. If there was one thing Haku absolutely knew how to use, it was a cane. Where to hit, how hard, how much, for how long... Haku understood these things intimately, and though Haku could misjudge someone else's tolerance for Haku's own, Itachi would stop the progression before it got that far.

With each passing duet of strikes, Kimimaro's sobbing elocution grew louder and more piercing. Itachi threw himself into the narrow mindset framed by target, velocity, recreation, and repetition. Kimimaro twisted and writhed, dancing in the rig, and the reaction and Kimimaro's inability to avoid the suffering shot continual darts of desire along Itachi's cock. The snap of the cane sped faster than the throw of flogger, and Itachi lost count of numbers, noting only rouge skin and sobs of encouragement. Kimi flinched and flailed, trying to retreat, and Itachi dropped his arm and held up his hand for a halt the very second that Kimimaro's shoulders shuddered into a wilt. Kimi's head went to the right and rolled to the front, and Itachi purposefully threw the flogger to the ground; let Kimimaro hear it being dropped. 

"My Lord," Haku said, swallowing and panting and sweating. "He flies."

Gingerly, Itachi pressed along the entirety of Kimimaro's broad back, and Kimi struggled to gain more contact. The moan that met Itachi's ears was small and hitching, and Itachi rubbed Kimi's chest and belly. "You've suffered perfectly for us, sweet boy." Itachi gestured for Haku to come closer, and he slid fingers and palm to cup Haku's nape, massaging. "And you've performed masterfully, my lovely boy."

"Thank you, My Lord," Haku said, but his voice was thin and lashes wet.

Itachi rested his cheek on Kimimaro's hair, holding the hanging man loosely and channeling every scrap of tenderness in the universe into his touches. "Tell your brother what you long to do, lovely boy." 

Haku groaned, doubling over with hair tickling Kimimaro's sensitive skin. Kimi shivered, arm flexing in an involuntary reaction to move or to soothe. Itachi traced Kimi's underarms and chest, let hands roam. 

"I... I would taste him, My Lord," Haku began, steadily but so heated that the inflection threatened to set the house on fire. "Uncage him and lick the head of his cock. He's wet, My Lord, lines of his pleasure fall to the floor, and I-I want them on my tongue."

"More, Haku," Itachi ordered, monitoring the rise and fall of Kimi's breathing. 

"I... I... want to be inside him. Joined. And I... I want..." Haku's stutter trailed off, and Itachi smoothed Haku's hair over one ear.

"Tell me, lovely boy," Itachi coaxed, and Haku nuzzled his hand. "Please me by speaking your desire."

Haku's inhale was sharp, the exhale tremulous, and the set of his shoulders drew a fierce line. "I want to bury myself in him and be caned, My Lord."

Kimimaro roused, coming back to them enough to pitch toward Haku, and Itachi hummed over the clang of metal. "Feeling empty, my sweet boy?"

"Yes, Master," Kimimaro rasped in a barely audible, hoarse whisper.

Itachi slid one hand over the ridges and valleys of Kimimaro's muscles until he palmed Kimi's caged cock and firm balls. "Aching for release?"

Kimimaro was nodding before his mouth regained the ability to speak. "Please...  _ mmph _ ... please..."

A shiver of black evil rushed down Itachi's spine, and he hissed in a harsh rush: "Beg me, my boys."

A chorus of pleas rose to resound in Itachi's ears. Haku suckled Itachi's thumb, Kimimaro twisted to pour pretty, petitioning notes against Itachi's jawline, and Itachi made helpless, infuriated sounds for his lovers, let them spill while he clung tighter to Kimi's body and gripped Haku's damp hair. 

" _ Nn... nnn _ -enough," Itachi called, and silence followed. He sank a bite into the meat of Kimimaro's trapezious muscle, and he valiantly won the battle for control, but knew he was fast losing territory and advantage. "The cage stays," Itachi ordered, and he hissed in delight at the twin curses of frustration. "Haku, on your knees, and blow your brother around the metal."

Haku met the rug with a thump, and Itachi peered over Kimimaro to watch Haku catch a drooling line of pre-come on the tip of his tongue, follow it to the end of the chastity device, and then swallow Kimimaro whole. Haku grunted, cheekbones outlined by suction and his hands fisted on his thighs to keep from jacking his cock. 

"Good," Itachi gritted. "Aim to drain him, Haku."

Kimimaro rocked, trying to escape and entirely unable to do so. "Shit... fuck... Master I  _ can't _ ... Master...  _ please _ ... need... need..." 

"I know what you need," Itachi said to stifle the beautiful babble from his sweetest treasure. "In due time. For now, your brother will drink you and I..." Itachi squeezed both globes of Kimi's ass, "will fuck you with my tongue."

Kimimaro's cries to heaven got lost in the buzzing that ricocheted off Itachi's eardrums. He had to concentrate on a measured slide to the floor, and he lost even that much ability to think when lube and Kimimaro's musk filled his nostrils, mouth, and encircled his probing tongue in undulating clenches. Itachi buried himself in the task, extending one hand to latch onto each of Haku's nipples in turn, pinch-pulling to earn muffled yelps. 

Itachi didn't stop with the rimming until Kimimaro glistened, and the tide of weeping vocalization crested with sheer desperation. "Haku," Itachi murmured, spreading Kimi wider and teasing the sweet pink. "Fetch the lube."

A wet pop, a scramble, and Haku returned, on his knees and offering the tube to Itachi. "Coat yourself," Itachi said, sounding idle but, in truth, feeling everything except unaffected.

Haku spilled slick and set his hand to his dick with a wet sigh. " _ Nnn... nngh _ ... oooh finally fuck yes..." Haku's relief pulled a throaty chuckle from Itachi, unbidden.

Itachi sat back on his heels, fixated on Kimimaro's entrance, which fluttered and opened for him in rhythmic expansion. "Haku." Itachi made the syllables drag. "Impale your brother with your cock, but do not move once fully inside."

Vertigo and the headlong rush toward the final gambit of the scene spun Itachi like an immobile top. Haku floundered upright, got a grip on Kimimaro's body, and Itachi bit a lip when he got to watch Haku's slick-shined dick breach and shove its way into Kimimaro in a swift plunge. Kimimaro groan-grit-grunted with every single breath, an endless ode to surrender.

Reality and time began to play their usual game of scene speed chess. Itachi got to his feet, blinked, and he was walking. Stretched, and he was holding a cane. Turned, and he was behind Haku. Cursed, and he was demanding his senses to focus. Clenched, and he was bending Haku by the hair and holding the boy braced. The earth's rotation paused. Itachi snarled, and his words were dulled by the effort used to form them: "Scream for me."

The cane hit, stole away Haku's ability to do anything except buck into Kimimaro. Itachi forgave it, savored it, craved it, and was relentless in the agony he unleashed on Haku's supple, scarred skin. A screech that rose and fell in horror and bliss tore its way from Haku's core on the seventh strike, and Itachi allowed himself a count of twenty before throwing the cane away like it had offended his ancestry.

"Fuck but don't come," Itachi droned, and Haku slammed into Kimimaro like a death row inmate with one final tryst between self and lethal injection. Itachi grabbed a condom, ripped it open with his teeth, and sheethed himself, pacing to stand behind Kimimaro. Itachi's sweet boy was swaying with the force of the thrusts, giving into them with the entirety of being.

Itachi let it continue while he slathered himself liberally with lubrication and until Haku's rasps were slurred curses of restraint. "Stop," Itachi ordered, and Haku fell over Kimimaro's body, heaving. Itachi gently removed Kimi's blindfold, dropped it, and tucked Kimimaro's hair behind reddened ears. Kimi's eyes were screwed shut, and Itachi knew Kimi was quite beyond understanding language, and Itachi sympathized, nearly unable to formulate coherence, himself. 

So Itachi crooned to his lover, instead, soft and sweet, and he bent his knees. He reached and found the point where Haku and Kimimaro were joined, and he pitched his hips to rut against and line up along Haku's length. 

"Oh god, oh god... oh god..." Haku breathed, but had enough sense to stay still. Haku trapped a scream behind mashed lips when Itachi squeezed their cocks together, tight and unforgiving, and Itachi almost didn't recognize the guttural purr as his own. 

"Spread and take us both, sweet boy," Itachi murmured, more for the rush of the command than any need for warning. He stabbed into the flexing pressure of Kimimaro's entrance, patient with the push until the ring stretched. "That's it," Itachi praised, pausing for passage and thrilling with Kimimaro's taut, tendon-straining, wide-eyed form. "That's my good boy," Itachi praised when Kimimaro's body gradually granted admittance. 

Kimimaro sucked a ragged breath, bellowing uninhibited cries. Itachi managed the chaos manifesting in the slither and slip of dual penetration, and he didn't care to dull his own calls, curses, or coos. Itachi strove toward depth, and it took an eternity until his nuts met Kimimaro's ass. Haku was a sheer unraveled mess who hung on to Kimimaro's hip and shoulder like ropes dangling from a canyon's cliffside.

"Haku," Itachi eventually managed to say, petting and grasping and staving off orgasm thanks to the earlier release, the latex diluting sensations, and the overriding concern for his boys. " _ Move _ ."

When Haku got wit enough to withdraw and reenter, stretching Kimimaro's tightness and seeming to stroke along every sensitive part of Itachi's dick, Itachi could only wrap arms around Kimimaro and groan praise. " _ Ooooh _ ... god...  _ yesss _ ..." Itachi muffled himself against Kimimaro's bruised shoulder blades, but he was powerless to stop his euphoric concerto. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, or days, but his attention was eventually called back to earth with the change of pitch to Haku's entreaties.

"My Lord... can't... I-I'm..." 

"Come and come loud, my lovely." Itachi's permission was overtaken by Haku's wail, and Itachi observed Haku's final thrust, hold, and the ensuing rippling waves of aftershock in envious awe. Haku spasmed again and again in consummate relief, all but collapsing when it was done. Itachi allowed Haku a few heartbeats of recovery, and then shifted. "Stay within him, and remove the cage, Haku." 

Haku whimpered but obeyed, and Itachi cradled Kimimaro, who was beyond noise, sound, or reality. Itachi intrinsically knew what his boy felt: every inch of skin on fire; the pent, dammed need for orgasm so furious it burst in ripples of pain emanating from balls, cock, and ass; prostate so tender a single brush could milk it. And each piece of tactile awareness was a tether to an existence bereft of willpower or resistance. 

"So beautiful," Itachi said, over and over into Kimimaro's ear. "My Kimi. So very beautiful."

The cockcage hit the ground, and Itachi elongated one arm above them to unfasten the strap from Kimi's harness to the rig. He adjusted to take Kimimaro's weight and reached up again. "Undoing your hands, Kimi." Itachi balanced, and unclasped each of Kimimaro's cuffs one at a time from the wooden struts and settled Kimi's wrists at Kimi's sides. "Pull out Haku," Itachi ordered, and Haku did so with a hiss that Kimimaro echoed. "Mm..." Itachi sighed, withdrawing as well. "Are you watching your come flow out of your brother, Haku?"

"Yes," Haku answered, tired and sated and sublime, and Kimimaro's shiver shook his core.

"Ooh, he does like that," Itachi rumbled. "Is he getting hard, lovely?" Itachi slowly stepped backward and carefully lowered Kimimaro's upper body until it was laid flat, Itachi supporting Kimi's shoulders and letting the rig do the rest.

"He is, My Lord." Haku licked his lips.

"And what do you wish to do?"

"Make him fuck my mouth, My Lord."

"Good." Itachi slid the latex off his cock and set the tip to Kimimaro's lips. They parted instantly, tongue straining to taste. Kimimaro's eyes were closed, brow smooth, limbs pliant. "He's going to force-suck me, Haku. You're going to fuck him with your fingers and you get him off however you like." Haku's affirmation was a hiccoughing sigh. "Begin."

Itachi fed himself into Kimimaro's mouth and throat without hitting hardly a hint of hindrance. Haku's noisily sucked and buried four fingers deeply within Kimimaro, the slide knocking Kimimaro on and into Itachi. Kimimaro merely moved and accepted, silent but for watery inhales, and seeing Kimimaro so gone, so absolutely lost to the space where Itachi wanted to take, keep, and cherish his sweet boy, was almost immediately Itachi's unmaking. Kimimaro didn't have any mind left to manage bodily response, and in seconds Kimi was writhing, coiling, winding; wracked with an orgasm that ripped from Kimi's constricting throat to spurting cock to tensing thighs. Itachi's moan echoed, and he curled over Kimimaro, striving deeply and finding his climax in swift thrusts of successive release. He withdrew, Kimi gasped, and Itachi was sure he made sounds of release for his loves. He always did when the nature of his connection to his boys finally spiraled him into bliss.

The pleasure took everything from Itachi, better sense to rest of self, and he honestly wasn't sure how long all three of them hovered in the aftermath. Haku moved first, ever the fastest with recovery, and fetched the water. Itachi eased Kimimaro upright and stood behind his lover, supporting and smearing kisses across sweat-soaked skin. Haku held the water for Kimi to drink, and after greedy gulps and a nearly innocent noise of contentment, Haku set the bottle aside and glanced at Itachi. 

"It'd be easier just to let him...?" Haku began.

"Yes."

Haku nodded, grabbed cleansing wipes off the table, and together, Itachi and Haku wiped Kimimaro clear of bodily fluids and dried blood. Haku inspected welts, dabbed any open cuts left by nails or cane with antiseptic, and covered the worst wounds with bandages patterned with cheerful, smiling daisies. Haku grabbed a homeopathic ointment that helped with bruising, and smeared it everywhere liberally. Kimimaro stayed mute, and Itachi hummed a lullaby of sorts, holding and adoring both his men in the swell of exhaustion.

They took time getting Kimimaro out of the rig, rubbing strain out of muscles and awakening sluggish circulation. Itachi supported Kimimaro the entire time while Haku lowered Kimi's legs, undid the harness, unfastened all the cuffs, and dropped everything into the basket of soiled items. 

"Ready?" Itachi whispered, ducking under one of Kimi's arms while Haku took the other side. Dully, Kimimaro nodded, and at the sight of life, relief washed through Itachi, crisp and clear as a mountain spring. With cautious step and measured pace, they left the seating room, went through the den, and got Kimimaro to the bed all three men shared. Kimimaro scrambled weakly onto the sheets with Itachi's help, and Itachi followed Kimi, settling behind his lover and petting unmarred skin.

"My Lord...?" Haku queried.

"Do as you need, my love," Itachi said.

"I'll be right back," Haku reassured and dashed toward the changing and bathing rooms. 

"Is he okay?" Kimimaro asked, almost panicked, and Itachi guided Kimimaro back to prone when Kimi tried to rise.

"He's fine, my Kimi." Itachi smoothed Kimimaro's hair away from his face.

"Am... am I okay?" Kimimaro asked, hushed.

Itachi entwined them together, gently and allowing Kimimaro to shift before kissing Kimimaro's temple. "Yes, sweet boy. You're safe with me, the man who loves you more than anything. You and your brother are my reasons for living, the sources of all my happiness, and you bring me joy every minute of every hour of every day."

Kimimaro's tiny cry was dampened by tears, but he turned his head for a kiss that Itachi gave with a soft sigh. Itachi continued to kiss Kimi until Haku joined them, bereft of jewels and finery and splendid in nudity. Kimimaro broke from Itachi to whimper at Haku, who claimed Kimi's mouth in a series of chaste presses. Itachi encouraged the boys closer, reached for the covers, and tucked all three of them under fluffy down and silk.

"You were amazing," Kimimaro said to Haku, and Itachi got an arm over both his men.

"So were you," Haku replied, ducking under Kimi's chin and hugging him, mindful of sore spots.

"Your performance was flawless," Itachi said, raking fingers through Haku's hair. "Both during the Gala and here, with us."

"Thank you," Haku said, and he melted into the mattress. "Oh thank you..."

"Rest," Itachi said, straining and kissing each man in turn. "Tomorrow we eat, lounge, and do as little as possible."

Haku giggled, Kimimaro's breathing evened in slumber, and Itachi waited until both his lovers were fast asleep before letting overwhelming gratitude lull him into dreams of laughter and love built for a lifetime.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ∞ For the entire list of Nagato/Itachi/Soubi/various stories, references, extras, and information, [Click Here](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/49053.html).
> 
> ∞ For all information about Monoshizukanohi that you never knew you wanted to know, click [HERE](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/12226.html).
> 
> ∞ I don’t own any characters in any fandom; I just entice them into doing things they never thought possible. The originals though, if present, are all mine. I also own the world, Monoshizukanohi, and all the places therein. 
> 
> ∞ Want more? Check out my other stories here or head over to my [Demented-Ink headquarters](https://www.demented-ink.com/). And make sure to stop by [Smoke Signals](https://www.demented-ink.com/smoke-signals) and keep in touch!
> 
> Much light, more love, and many, many baked goods.  
> ♥Dee


	6. EXTRAS

**Summary:**  
Upon their return from a cruise of the world, Haku suggests that Itachi and company throw a party...

 **In Gift To:**  
This is a birthday gift for Kimya, who said she would love to see, "Haku playing the piano." The rest evolved from there.

I'd like to say that there are 22 people represented in this story from six fandoms. Because I like to make things easy on myself. XD

 **READING LIST:**  
If you want to make the most out of this story that weaves everyone and their uncle together... here's your reading list (check out the handy-dandy side bar for direct links):  
Deprivation  
Rhythm  & Bruise  
"Knight of Swords"  
"Broken Interlude"  
"The Tower"  
"Ghosts"  
"Turning the Tables"

 **In Fact…**  
For the entire list of Nagato/Itachi/Soubi/various stories and information:  
[Click Here](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/49053.html)

 **The Manor References**  
The Uchiha Manor is modeled after a combination of [Vanderbilt Estate or Biltmore](http://www.biltmore.com/) and [Misselthwaite](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lmjlbrgRGc1qg77qto1_500.jpg).

 **The World Ship**  
[Where Itachi and Crew Have a Condo](http://aboardtheworld.com/).

 **Stained Glass Window**  
[Shape](https://stclement.files.wordpress.com/2011/11/450px-paryc5bc_notre-dame_witrac5bc.jpg?w=490)

 **Everybody's Outfits**  
To see the links and my notes (to explain to an artist friend of mine doing a rendering of everybody and their uncles) on fashion/characters/etc., [CLICK HERE](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TVtM2SN1RpsNIA5KoVa-h_p_z1KIiMk-JXRVwNJqbTU/edit).

 **Fandoms Represent!**  
There are six fandoms represented in "The Gala" and 22 characters.

Naruto (obviously)  
Bleach: [Coyote Starrk](https://www.google.com/search?q=coyote+starrk&hl=en&prmd=imvns&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=zvg3T5GuJM6ztwfYuvAu&ved=0CEAQsAQ&biw=1366&bih=681). I added the Italian surname, "Coletti" for AU purposes.  
Loveless: [Agatsuma Soubi](https://www.google.com/search?q=agatsuma+soubi+loveless&hl=en&site=webhp&prmd=imvns&source=lnms&tbm=isch&ei=T_k3T6zLIc23twfBkLS_Ag&sa=X&oi=mode_link&ct=mode&cd=2&ved=0CBAQ_AUoAQ&biw=1366&bih=681)  
Togainu No Chi: [Gunji](https://www.google.com/search?q=togainu+no+chi+gunji&hl=en&prmd=imvns&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=n_k3T7OtFc3LtgfF-MCUDQ&sqi=2&ved=0CCsQsAQ&biw=1366&bih=681) & [Kiriwar](https://www.google.com/search?q=togainu+no+chi+kiriwar&hl=en&sa=X&prmd=imvns&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&ei=Pfo3T973OtGJtwfZtZC5Ag&ved=0CCcQsAQ&biw=1366&bih=681). The "old man and baby chick" reference is straight out of the anime/manga. Kiriwar was requested by **chronomorphosis**.  <3  
Inuyasha: [Miroku](https://www.google.com/search?q=inuyasha+miroku&hl=en&site=webhp&prmd=imvns&source=lnms&tbm=isch&ei=X_o3T4-1K46Ttwf-38DBAg&sa=X&oi=mode_link&ct=mode&cd=2&ved=0CBIQ_AUoAQ&biw=1366&bih=681). Requested by **kyuubi1010** <3  
Trinity Blood: [Abel Nightroad](https://www.google.com/search?q=trinity+blood+abel+nightroad&hl=en&site=webhp&prmd=imvns&source=lnms&tbm=isch&ei=qfo3T_LhLMOftwe0r5y-Ag&sa=X&oi=mode_link&ct=mode&cd=2&ved=0CBwQ_AUoAQ&biw=1366&bih=681).

 **Reference Images**  
This is my Nagato (only mine has auburn hair and bourbon-colored eyes):

  
**This is my Soubi (who still has glasses):**  


**Author's Note:**

> ∞ This story came to be because Kimya wanted to see Haku playing the piano. The rest… was just my complicated icing on a nice cake. Kinky story is kinky - fair warning - and there are… 22 characters from eight fandoms, I believe. ENJOY!
> 
> ∞ For the entire list of Nagato/Itachi/Soubi/various stories, references, extras, and information, [Click Here](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/49053.html).
> 
> ∞ For all information about Monoshizukanohi that you never knew you wanted to know, click [HERE](http://demented-dee.livejournal.com/12226.html).
> 
> ∞ I don’t own any characters in any fandom; I just entice them into doing things they never thought possible. The originals though, if present, are all mine. I also own the world, Monoshizukanohi, and all the places therein. 
> 
> ∞ Want more? Check out my other stories here or head over to my [Demented-Ink headquarters](https://www.demented-ink.com/). And make sure to stop by [Smoke Signals](https://www.demented-ink.com/smoke-signals) and keep in touch!
> 
> Much light, more love, and many, many baked goods.  
> ♥Dee


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